Broken Equilibrium
by Teres
Summary: During the events of Hellboy the film , a Jedi Knight from a galaxy far, far away is sent to aid the BPRD. She comes hoping to escape her war-torn past, but does not expect to be haunted by old phantoms lingering from the Yuuzhan Vong Invasion, nor to arrive at such a pivotal time for the members of the Bureau. Star Wars Expanded Universe: post-Legacy Of The Force. HB/Liz.
1. Doubts

Summery: A Jedi Knight is sent to Earth to temporarily aid the BPRD, but at the same time she comes hoping to escape her troubled past. While working with the agents there, she does not expect to have to deal with old phantoms, nor does she expect to arrive at such a pivotal time. Hellboy movie-verse. (multiple crossovers here, but mainly X-over Star Wars. Set During 'Hellboy 1', and post-Legacy of the Force. HB/L)

Disclaimer: The film Hellboy, including the characters and concepts, belong to Revolution Studios amongst others, while the work on which it was based belongs to Mike Mignola. The universe of 'Star Wars' belongs chiefly to George Lucas including the characters and concepts. I have no ownership over either, whatsoever. I wrote this for pleasure and not profit, no illegal infringement was intended. However, I do own (as far as that extends) the original characters: Marlisse Gole, Adi Jinn-Bay, and the concept of Yuroagurians.

Author's Note: I apologize that this chapter is so short. The subsequent ones will be longer and certainly more descriptive, I promise. I tend to neglect descriptive details when I'm first starting out with a story. (for SW fans, I will admit that I have not finished reading the NJO series, or LOTF. I am partly relying on what I have heard through spoilers on the internet - I know, tsk-tsk, I'm sorry - but I will try not to write anything in detail that I don't know from my own personal experience from the books that I have actually read for myself. I'm pretty strict about accuracy.)

* * *

Chapter 1: Doubts

* * *

He heard the echo of footsteps upon the marble floor in the hallway, as the sound had faintly begun to creep into his office. They were hard heels, obviously flat, dress shoes. Absently he wondered what issue brought the man to see him. Earlier in the morning they held a meeting where several issues had been discussed and resolved - he had hoped.

Professor Trevor Broom turned when the footsteps went silent upon entering his office. Broom looked up to see an agent and received a letter from him. Broom wore a false expression of gratitude, but still managed a half-hearted, "Thank you." He _was_ thankful when he was alone again, and the cloud of sickeningly think masculine perfume began to dissipate. He couldn't help but fan away the remainder with the letter once the agent retreated from the room, off to pollute the rest of the building. Why on earth did no one tell the man that he applied far too much?

With a sigh of disgust from the tainted air, he finally left his desk, which was newly cluttered with both governmental documents just recently delivered and half-rotten paleographs related to his present interest of study. He walked farther into the library in search of peace, hoping the message was not a waste of his time.

The library was extensive with the genre of the books ranging from pure recreational poetry to manuscripts of obscure "mythology". These books were upheld by tall, large wooden cases which were themselves accommodated by the room's high ceiling, and the long back wall. Most of the décor was that of cherry paneling, giving the library a dark atmosphere, but was lit by the several lights, as well as the fireplace.

It also experienced a residual glow by a voluminous, water-filled tank, incandescent from the fixtures above it. The occupant of which was elsewhere at the moment, but the tank was freshly filtered of any evidences inevitably produced by idle water, but of course were very few as the occupant was a rather cleanly creature.

The room received another source of luminescence, but in a different sort of manner entirely by way of the many religious relics on display, with particular spot lights illuminating them. One light was purposely focused on the large and imposing sculpture of Michael standing over Lucifer in triumph with a sandaled foot upon the enemy's throat, and a keenly pointed spear poised above and ready in the archangel's hand. For some reason, he was always struck by a renewed sense of interest every time he gazed at it.

Turning back to the matter at hand, though, he gently slid his thumb in an open corner of the envelope's semi-sealed flap, attempting to preserve its original shape as he opened it. He pulled out a folded letter and read through the message, finding that it presented a very _interesting_ proposal. And certainly, Professor Broom handled matters of very interesting natures everyday.

He read with a look of mild surprise.

_Professor Bruttenholm,_

_We, the members of the New Council founded in England - preceded by the obsolete original - have been in contact with our corresponding allies in the United States of America for decades, which at such occasions in the past have involved the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. We hope to continue this contact, and offer a proposal._

The offer was both directly and indirectly beneficial for the BPRD. If he accepted, it would be as a favor to the New Watcher's Council, which consequently would provide a foreign ally for the Bureau. A good thing to achieve should the future warrant their need of one.

However, it took a while for him to realize the proposal wasn't a joke.

_In the past, our organization has had interactions with individuals of the intergalactic order of Knights under the supervision of their respective council._

He had to read the following paragraphs again and again to convince himself of the letter's sincerity.

For approximately a four-month stint, a creature – rather, a unique individual – straight from the recesses of George Lucas' mind was being offered in service to them, and came with the highest recommendations from the New Council. To him, the proposal was most certainly odd - not only because Lucas was far more right than he would ever suspect, but also that the request was incredibly random. Perhaps, the Council, or the extraterrestrial entities being represented in this case, would be using this opportunity as some sort of reconnaissance. And exactly what was the Council's relationship with this alien race, or races? He also wondered with amusement whether other branches of the government - that officially did not exist, like the BPRD - were aware of this.

He could envision the reaction of Tom Manning to this letter once he was notified - if he hadn't received a copy already. Broom smiled a little. His colleague was rather suspicious of what he did not understand. It was his greatest flaw. He hoped Manning wouldn't cause any offense in his response.

But, even as his own doubts and suspicious swirled in his mind over the proposal, a steadily growing sense of curiosity was also present. Reason would have perhaps warned him against it, but he wanted to know more. And he decided he was willing to find out, even on their terms.

He would accept the offer. And Broom would have reasonable questions prepared for this Jedi Knight when he arrived... As would Manning. Broom winced at the thought.

With a wavering thought of uncertainty, though, he looked back to the letter quickly, and corrected himself. _No_, when _she_ arrived.

* * *

She had taken a leave of duty after the death of Darth Caedus (formerly Jacen Solo) for the sake of getting a hold of her personal feelings – as was passed along to the Grand Master – and that her feelings had become unbalanced, but wholly not unstable. Marlisse Gole's emotional state was one similar to what spurred her friend's leave ten-years earlier. She had seen enough of war, and according to the secular leaders of the galaxy, peace was ensuing.

This had been something the head Jedi Healer, Cilghal, pointed out to her when she stated her intentions of temporary absence. Marlisse reasoned, that as a Jedi Healer, she would not be needed as greatly in this supposed peace, as she had been during the civil war that ended only months earlier.

However, she did not wish to go into self-sustained exile; she wished to put her healing abilities to work, while still keeping away from civilization. Perhaps even outside of her own galaxy. For this matter, Marlisse went before Master Jinn Bay – the one Jedi who visited Earth the most frequently of any recorded being in their galaxy – as to what she might put her attention to.

"I wouldn't suggest going to Earth if you'd like to get away from here," Jinn Bay advised, as she took a seat across from the knight. Traces of gray growing at the Master's temples, developing crow's-feet, and yet an otherwise youthful face gave her the appearance of being in her forties, but in truth she was somewhere in her early sixties.

"Earth has just as much conflict as it does here. Where I might place you could very well be in the middle of a battle. The people there – at least the informed ones – are in a constant fight for the preservation of their world, as you've heard me speak of before. Your help would be appreciated, of course. They need everyone who can be of service. However, ... I'm not certain this is exactly ... what you need right now, Marlisse."

"I am capable, Master Bay," she answered, confidently. Being Yuroagurian, she possessed a strong accent when she spoke Basic - her second language. Her use of grammer had always been overly precise. Those of her culture spoke an odd hybrid of two languages that Jinn-Bay noted had their origin from Earth. This was something the Master had never investigated, but still marveled at…

To a native of Earth, one would not be able to identify Marlisse's accent as independently Hindi or Semitic. She would, however, be mistaken as an Indian from the unique quality of her dark skin and black hair.

Marlisse's onyx eyes met the Master's with sincerity as she continued, "I feel that I simply need to occupy myself elsewhere. I have no doubt in that," she mumbled the last sentence to herself, but went on, "And wherever I can be most useful, I wish to go."

Jinn-Bay searched her younger colleague's face for the confusion she sensed beneath those dark and well-guarded features. Her eyes were draw to the delicate tattoos above the Yuroagurian's brows - two sets of two small, black dots that were symbolic in their purpose, but Jinn-Bay was ashamed to say that she could no longer recall what they stood for, and forced herself back to her previous concern.

She was reasonably knowledgeable as to why Marlisse sought solace now, but not so much as Master Cilghal would be (the Calamarian had spent almost four years training her in the healing arts, after all.) Marlisse had recently lost two friends. Prior to, and even during the Yuuzhan Vong Invasion, she became close to the late Alema Rar and Tahiri Veila.

Marlisse befriended the Rar sisters. She attempted to help Alema over the loss of her sister and eventually gained some trust from the otherwise distant Twi-lek. But, she was later forced to observe Rar fall to the dark side over the hatred the troubled alien harbored from the invasion, as well as the events of the Dark Nest Crisis. She refused to help hunt her former friend down when the time came, but she reluctantly agreed it was the best course of action.

She was grieved to learn of the Twi-lek's death. But, few others shared her feeling.

Yet, this injury was not the greatest by itself, but even Jinn-Bay could see that it was bringing old wounds to the surface that evidently had never fully been dealt with. These injuries were ones the knight received during the invasion. She and her partner and very close friend had been captured by the alien race for a short while. Through the dealings of the late Jacen Solo, he and Marlisse escaped. However, this came at the price of her partner death to ensure Solo's and Marlisse's survival.

Only months before, her home planet Yuroaguria, like so many others was Vongformed.

But, something had happened during her captivity. She survived the bite of an amphistaff - and a strange reaction had occured because of it. Marlisse was rendered amnesic.

Her master had refused to tamper with her apprectice's mind for fear of worsening the condition. Over the course of twelve years, her memories were slowly returning in bouts; some of the more tramatic memories were painful to receive back, as Marlisse had recounted. Much like a war veteran might experience flashbacks.

With this particular chain of events in mind, Jinn Bay was rather hesitant to send the knight into battle once again. She looked on the knight with heartfelt pity. But, it was not pity that was either needed or wanted.

"I realize I'm losing here, but ... please at least consider my advice before you go. The political arena of Earth is simply a very small version of here. It will be anything but a peaceful retreat. " Her warnings were rebuffed with an impatient look from the knight. "The only benefit that I can think of is that you will have nothing there to remind you of the current events here."

The Master was careful not to define what she meant by "current events". The HoloNet was simply buzzing about the court's final decision on whether or not Tahiri Veila's war crimes were severe enough to elicit capital punishment.

Perhaps the healer was right. Maybe it would be the best option for reprieve. It might be that the Healer could touch this healer while she lingered on Earth.

With a sigh of defeat, the Master said, "Alright. I'll arrange it."

* * *

End Note: Please read and review! Let me know what you think of this. Boring, interesting? I know this has some heavy Star Wars background-yammering going on, but please bear with me! It's necessary for Marlisse's character.


	2. Nothing's Hidden

Disclaimer: The film Hellboy, including the characters and concepts, belong to Revolution Studios amongst others, while the work on which it was based belongs to Mike Mignola. The universe of 'Star Wars' belongs chiefly to George Lucas including the characters and concepts. I have no ownership over either, whatsoever. I wrote this for pleasure and not profit, no illegal infringement was intended. However, I do own (as far as that extends) the original characters: Marlisse Gole, Adi Jinn-Bay, and the concept of Yuroagurians.

* * *

Chapter Two: Nothing's Hidden

* * *

The day of the knight's arrival was near, and an adequate room had already been prepared for her. It would be strange perhaps, at first, as there were no others there who simply came and went at their whim- except for one. But, that was an entirely different case, under different circumstances.

However, Professor Broom could not help but wonder if the knight might also follow this pattern, should she work well in the Bureau's environment. He smiled a little. He was getting ahead of himself. Who knew what sort of character she was? He knew enough of the New Council to trust their opinion, but was he making the right decision after all? Perhaps he would regret allowing her to come. But he hoped not.

They would all soon find out whatever the situation might be. He shook his head, and set aside the paperwork on his desk.

"You're anxious, Professor," a familiar voice said in friendly and concerned observation.

Broom looked up to see Abraham Sapien, a magnificently curious being, standing before his desk. Not wholly amphibious, but a true anomaly - yet not of nature .

In the current low lights of the library, one could not truly appreciate the striking, black symmetrical stripes complementing his cerulean skin. The Professor hated to admit it, but he at one time harbored a sort of fascination in watching Abe, like a child would observe an exotic, colorful fish swimming around in a bowl. Over the years though, he had grown to appreciate Abe's abilities and personality much more than his unique physiology.

"Nothing's hidden from you, is it, Abe?" He smiled, yet with a sting of guilt. Swiftly, he tucked the feeling away.

"Oh, well, I suppose there are some things that I can't quite detect," he answered honestly, though reeking of modesty. He seemed to uncomfortably fidget with the books in his hands. He paused and became slightly hesitant, before he went on. "But, you are disquieted by something," and added quietly, "Hellboy, probably."

The Professor frowned, and cleared his throat. "Yes, I'd think that at least is obvious." He stood, and with his cane in hand, began to walk away from his desk as the topic was apparently not popular. The aforementioned agent had once again exposed himself to the public eye, and earned a sentence of 'grounding' from the Professor.

Abe stood still while Broom went by, cocking his head, picking up on another thread of emotion. He held up a webbed hand. "There's something else, of course."

Broom stopped, more to humor the agent than his own intrigue at this point. He spoke over his shoulder, "Yes, you're right. And you and Hellboy should know about it." He turned to face the library's occupant again.

Abe remained silent and waited, allowing the Professor to continue on his own before he simply read him. His consciousness hovered at the penumbra of Broom's mind; patient, perceptive, but of course polite enough to stay out.

"We're adding two new agents to the Bureau: one will be permanent and the other only temporary. The permanent one, Agent John Myers, is a transfer from the FBI. He will be working closely with Hellboy from now on instead of Clay."

Abe considered this for a moment. "And the other..." He closed his eyes in concentration. "... is not from here." A look of confusion crossed his amphibious features. "And not from this planet?" Even Abe now questioned his own reading.

No," Broom confirmed. "Her occupation will be difficult to accept at first." Amusement crept into his voice, and a smile was partially victorious in its manifestation. "They both will arrive within the next few days. If all goes well and timely, we can expect the young woman tomorrow." He furrowed his brows in false graveness for the sake of humor. "I understand she has some psychic abilities somewhat similar to your own, Abe. Although, yours are likely to be more acute, in comparison."

Abe's hesitance melted away. If it were physically possible, he would have smiled. He read more. "And she has never been to this world before."

"Not according to our correspondences, which should prove an interesting experience for both her and for us," he said and finally allowed himself a smile.

But, it was Abe's turn to frown, as he delved a little into the Professor's volunteered information at the forefront of his mind. "But, it was not fully explained why she's coming."

The Professor leaned on his cane as an unbidden wave of fatigue and pain struck him. "That is the other mystery," he agreed, and fought hard to mask a grimace.

As the pain started to subside, he cast a glance down at the titles of the books in Abe's hand, and desperately attempted to find a new topic for fear of Abe picking up on his arduously concealed condition. "_Pilgrim's Progress_? Now, that's one I've not picked up in a long while."

Abe cocked his head again, as he looked down at the item in question, evidently oblivious to Broom's concerns. "Perhaps you should reread it, Professor. An allegory is a fairly common literary device to use, I suppose, but I don't believe I've ever read a book in which the entire work was one vast example of one.

"Really? Then, you might try _Animal Farm_ next if you enjoy all the symbolism. I believe its here somewhere." He genuinely offered his opinion this time, and looked to the shelves of numerous books beside them. He felt what little relief that he could in that the vicious disease was not blatant about its presence now, but quieted back down to its slow and methodical actions of killing him.

* * *

Distant cries of flying creatures echoed through the air and reached the open window of Marlisse's room, as did the scent of newly blooming flowers. These signs of regenerating life on the long-barren planet of Ossus were gifts that was not normally taken for granted among the Jedi. The healer, though, was present in body but not in mind. This ignorance of the here-and-now had appeared probably twelve years earlier. Losses that she and many, many others experienced then were significant and it was understandable that minds and hearts were slow to mend. This, apparently, was an odd symptom of it.

But, this inability to mend was paradoxal with her. Her people -what was left of them- had a deep faith that believed in healing of mind, and most certainly in body. Most of them had been practicing herbalists.

Being one the last of the Yuroagurians, Marlisse was not a good example of them it seemed, save for her practice of their faith and healing arts.

Once refocused, she slid open the lid of a metal trunk in the corner of her modestly-sized room and took out a care-worn, brown backpack. Small holes and patches of discoloration attested to its years of faithful service to the healer. On various missions across the galaxy it had served beside her. And, she hated to admit it, but she had developed quite the emotional attachment to it and would be sorely pained the day she finally had to throw it out. There really was not another style as equipped to her liking as this, being that it was the appropriate size for all the basic herbs and bacta containers and patches she needed to bring, along with an extra change of tunics and other personal essentials.

She sat the pack down on her sleep couch as she slipped her bare feet into her tall, knee-high field boots; just recently cleaned and polished, even gleaming slightly from the sunlight spilling into the room.

With the finishing touch of donning her brown robe over her freshly pressed green tunic, she gave a quick glance in a mirror to check the state of her hair. It was brushed of course, but the level of humidity - just detectable with equipment (certainly not like Yavin 4) - was obvious in the increasing amount of frizz in her hair. Humidity possessed the astounding technique of making it seem as if she had simply rolled off her couch without giving a thought to her appearance.

A true vexation. But, of little consequence to her now; the transport was waiting. Master Jinn-Bay had agreed to take her to Earth, and would subsequently bring her back after the mission.

The Master used her ties with the New Watcher's Council on Earth for Marlisse, and interestingly enough, the Council's head informed her that currently all battlefronts were quiet. And though a healer's presence would always be welcome, it certainly would not be necessary now. A suggestion was given, however, to aid the Americans; specifically an officially unknown branch of their government. It was assumed that the healer's primary talents would simply be a supplementary attribute to them. Both Jinn-Bay and the healer agreed with the offer. The arrangement would do. She was used to putting her expertise aside for necessity; it happened often.

The turbolift _swooshed _up to the top floor of the Temple, and she stepped out when the door slide open. She continued into a main hall which branched off into different directions with stairs leading up or down in some cases; one of them led to the landing platform on the roof of the Temple.

With purposeful strides, she passed other Jedi: Knights and apprentices, and Temple students. Some offered brief greetings or nodded in acknowledgement. Almost every Jedi that was twenty or older knew everyone else.

Clusters of fresh students were being guided by a Master, giving them a fast tour of the Temple.

"Ah, and here we have Knight Marlisse Gole. Children, this is one of the Order's Healers." He turned his gaze from the knight back to his adoring audience. "She's the one to go to if anyone were to require medical attention."

New and young eyes of all varying kinds cast curious looks at her as the group went by. She did her best to give them a smile, even in her rush, but she couldn't help but suppose why they were staring. There were rumors of the healers, especially of the Yuroagurian. The Order was still new, and healers -true healers - were not a common occurrence so far among Force Adepts. And the fact that the Order possessed a Yuroagurian Jedi was an even rarer anomaly. Their long life spans were the major difference between them and humans, and Marlisse's potential longevity made it very likely that she would outlive every Jedi currently serving in the Order.

Looking to the future then, one might argue that the Yuroagurian would one day be one of the greatest healers of either the old or new Orders, due to the cumulative knowledge and experience that would develop over the coming years. An encouraging thought for the older Masters; yet, an acknowledgement of solus for her. She would outlive teachers, friends, students... even a foreign spouse should she take one.

She was simply used to living among others of her race. It had never occurred to her in the many scenarios that played through her mind when she chose to leave Yuroaguria for Yavin 4 that life would bring her to this place. She had attempted to be somewhat grateful in the least that she knew what other beings felt when the Yuuzhan Vong destroyed their worlds and put an end to their way of life; utterly extinguishing cultures forever. But, she never realized the possibility of being left alone with all these others - others that would live a life that seemed unfairly brief.

She came up a flight of stairs, finally reaching the very top of the Temple. Even though the door ahead was closed, she still was able to catch a faint scent of the fresh, outside air lingering in the hall. She pressed a switch to her right, and the durasteel door flew open in a soundless blur.

Once across the threshold, she was surprised to have it close without her command. Yet, simple peripheral vision alerted her to another presence, and she turned accordingly. Her former Master, Cilghal, was beside her, with a salmon-orange hand drawing away from the door switch, and a mildly amused look was crossing the Calamarian's face. She was attired in green Jedi robes which only accented the large brown eyes on either side of her head. Marlisse was mildly disappointed in herself for not sensing the Master's presence before.

"Master Cilghal," she said; and bowed as if in an attempt to amend for her lacking focus.

"Marlisse," was the returned greeting with a gentle smile. "You shall be missed in these coming months." The Master glanced at Marlisse's backpack before turning attention back to her former student.

"Thank you, Master. I shall miss working beside you. Your continued guidance even after my ceremony has been most gracious of you."

The Calamarian smiled sadly and nodded before replying, "May you find what your heart so deeply seeks after."

Marlisse was taken aback. "Master?" She was also surprised at the small twinge the Master had caused, and honestly could not wholly identify its origin. But, to be truthful, she did not wish to.

She shook her head slowly. "You know of what I speak. Perhaps Earth can give you what the Temple cannot."

"I am not certain I - " Marlisse was silenced when the Master held up a webbed hand.

"Just... consider what I have said." A hint of exasperation accented her voice, and it shocked Marlisse. "And in the meantime, may the Force be with you." With a final, curt bow, the Master turned to leave, and fingered the switch, opening the door again.

"And with you, Master," she replied, and returned the gesture. She watched absently as her teacher left before closing the door once she was gone.

A deep sigh escaped past her lips when she continued on her way across the vast and mostly empty roof. Passing the few Coruscanti ships, she came towards a star craft with the engines on low, in preparation for departure.

It was the _Greensight;_ Master Jinn-Bay's personal ship, and had been for many years. Perhaps not as long and intimate of a relationship as with Han Solo and his _Millennium_ _Falcon_. And the _Greensight_ wasn't as large, although it possessed special modifications that more than made up for its smaller size. Parts of its structure and engines were reinforced in particular places to help withstand the jumps between galaxies.

She shielded her eyes when the suns pierced suddenly through the clouds. A brief annoyance, but for the first time, it drew her attention back to the here-and-now. The vocalizations of the creatures of the air and the fragrance of the various flowering vines growing on the Temple became apparent and no longer simple details lost in the disregardable atmosphere.

* * *

HB will come into the story by the next chapter, hopefully :)


	3. Arrivals

Disclaimer: The film Hellboy, including the characters and concepts, belong to Revolution Studios amongst others, while the work on which it was based belongs to Mike Mignola. The universe of 'Star Wars' belongs chiefly to George Lucas including the characters and concepts. I have no ownership over either, whatsoever. I wrote this for pleasure and not profit, no illegal infringement was intended. However, I do own (as far as that extends) the original characters: Marlisse Gole, Adi Jinn-Bay, and the concept of Yuroagurians.

Author's Note:I have not read the Hellboy comics, and therefore am interpreting the characters as they are portrayed in the films -- but unfortunately, because I have not been able to find the shooting script on the internet, and don't own the movie, I'm going to have to reproduce the lines of the movie through memory, and an undated pre-production draft. I apologize for any inconsistencies that may occur, but I think there will only be a couple of lines missing. To my first reviewer, and possibly future reviewers: I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Three: Arrivals

* * *

Rain fell from the sullen sky as if grieving the entire morning, and gently, but steadily tapped the windows. The chilled tears from above slid down the panes, and were cooler than the air within the hospital, creating a thin layer of condensation.

Dr. Diane Brook thought the weather was rather fitting considering what she and her colleagues were examining. All four stood facing a large backlit screen nearly filled with x-ray films showing multiple angles of the several body cavities and vertebrae in question. The doctors looked to different films to establish a new prognosis, and all unhappily came to the same one; the evidence from the x-rays was undeniable in their medically trained eyes. This was the point in which the medicine of man could go no further.

Brook was the one to finally break the heavy silence. "Have you told him yet?" She looked to the others, and her eyes came to rest on Dr. Robert Browne; the patient's primary care giver.

Browne shook his head, and managed a quiet, "No."

Brook looked through the glass window in the wall, separating them from the examination room, at the patient who was almost finished re-dressing himself after the x-rays were taken.

"We should," she said, still looking at patient.

"I'll notify his family."

Brook found herself focusing in on the religious item on his wrist: a rosary. She regarded it with pity. Her aunt had always worn one of those for all the years that she had known her, in just the same manner. Brook recalled that it was still on her aunt's wrist when they buried her following the fourth anniversary of her illness' discovery.

"He has no family," Brook said after a moment, confused.

--

The rain had stopped, leaving the air moist and cold. He noticed absently that the pavement was beginning to dry as he came out of the building, and he stepped over several layers of leaves. Some clung limply to the cement from the moisture, while others had escaped the rain somehow and stirred gently from the cool and intermittent autumn breeze.

A black Mercedes waited at the curb for him along with the driver, Agent Lime, attired in the usual, severe uniform of a black suit and tie, stood next to the vehicle and opened the rear passenger door. He remained holding the door even as Broom digressed for a few minutes to purchase several Baby Ruth candy bars from a nearby street vendor.

Broom carried the candy in his hands firmly as he turned back to the vehicle, but not so firmly that the heat from his palms would melt the chocolate. However, he paused when his attention was drawn away to an electronics store just beyond the street vendor. Several televisions were displayed in the window, tuned to the same program in which a newscaster said, "Tom Manning is the head of special operations at the FBI. He joins Pat in the studio tonight to go over the latest Hellboy sighting." A single, peculiar image appeared on the screens - a clearly red, but fuzzy, unfocused shape.

From this image, the program jumped back to the aforementioned 'Pat': a charismatic, well-groomed, past middle-aged man, who was leaning over his desk, pointing at particular features of the picture, keeping his attention upon the flat screen television between himself and his guest. To the left of the television sat his expensively dressed guest: Tom Manning - a balding, slightly corpulent man, with a permanent expression of skepticism scrawled on his face. He looked to the TV more to humor the host than to truly study the photo.

"There. That's the tail. And these are the horns," observed Pat.

Tom Manning was having none of this. "I have a question. Why is it, in these pictures, pictures of aliens, UFOs, the yeti, Hellboy, why is it they're always out of focus?"

The audience, whether real or fictitiously produced, found much amusement in his statement.

Pat tried his best to gain some ground by changing the subject. "Well, why don't you tell us about the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense?"

Manning calmly and smugly threw off the subtle accusation. He began to shift his attention from Pat and back to the camera as he said, "I wanna tell you, I wanna tell the American public one thing. Now, this Bureau for the..." Manning faltered slightly, and looked to Pat for assistance.

"Paranormal Research and Defense," Pat provided.

Manning looked directly into the camera and pointed at the would-be viewers to emphasize his point, his eyes blazing with forced sincerity and valiance. "There-is-no-such-thing."

Still watching, Broom smiled. Tom always did enjoy his theatrics.

--

Master Jinn-Bay landed the _Greensight _in a certain country she had called Egypt – the actual nation where her husband lived (but on a different plane of time, which seemed a terribly confusing situation to Marlisse) – where the knight was met by representatives of the Watchers' Council. With them, she would travel first to a land called 'England', and then to the 'United States', which was her ultimate destination.

But first, she and the humans took off in their peculiar vehicle identified as a 'truck' which was northbound, and bounced along a rock-littered, sandy road. It was an interesting version of a groundcar - but still a very primitive method of transportation. She admitted though, it was better than walking ... maybe.

She couldn't help but grimace at every terrible bump that sent the passangers a couple inches into the air, which was happening more and more frequently. Surrounded by Watchers' Council hirelings within the stifling, covered storage hold of the truck, she observed that there were three categories of reactions to jounces on the desert road: ones that required winces, grimaces or a collective groan from all the sweating, disgruntled passengers. From what they could deduce, it was not so much that the obstacles in the road were prevalent, but actually, the driver simply had a special talent for failing to avoid them.

The apparent leader of the group tried his best to make friendly conversation despite the less-than-enjoyable travel. Alexander, as he identified himself, tried to explain the significance in the name, 'England'; that it was the birthplace of their language, English.

"You know, _English_," said he, with a tinge of mockery, enunciating his words carefully. He was a young man most memorable for his eye patch, and quick wit. "What _we're_ speaking right _now_. The _universal_ language - or, practically."

This logic was not particularly helpful. "English? You mean to say that this English is my Galactic Basic? This is interesting, and most advantageous. I had hoped I would not require a translator." She managed a slight smile in light of the revelation, though Alexander was now the host to a confused look.

He looked to a young woman at his side, a fellow Council associate for an answer. "Galatic Basic?"

The woman shook her head, not bothering to glance at him. "I knew we should have brought the other Watcher."

"Hey, I'm pretty Star Wars savvy, Sam"

"No, you aren't." She gave him an irritated glance. "You don't even own the original trilogy. And besides, Andrew knows more about Star Wars than even Lucas. _He_ should have come."

The healer sensed additional underlying hostility present in Sam, something that went beyond the tone in her voice. It was odd. She attempted to focus in on the part of Sam's mind - to gently probe the human's consciousness. But, it was to no avail. Marlisse was not focused enough within to perform such a task. Everytime she attempted to stretch out with her feelings now ... she couldn't avoid the flooding memories - brilliant pain threatened to encapsulate her. Marlisse stopped immediately.

Alexander, oblivious to both his Sam's issues, as well as the Jedi's, simply took offense to his comrade's reply. "Well, geez, Sam, if that level of freaky turns you on, I'll make sure the two of you hook up next time -- "

The ending of his retort was cut short as the vehicle ran over yet another rock, eliciting pained groans from all the passengers.

"Wow, I'm really glad Alex put a fourteen-year-old behind the wheel, aren't you Marlisse?" Sam now hoped to include the healer in her satirical commentary.

Marlisse steered clear of the bait, and shook her head. "I do not wish to be the cause of conflict."

"Yeah, don't put her on the spot, _Sam_. You've already made such a great impression on her anyway. Now, she probably thinks all the women here are like you."

The healer closed her eyes, wincing, dreading the next biting reply. It was going to be a much longer journey to her destination than she first anticipated.

--

The cool metal of the vehicle's hull was painfully cold to the touch. She folded her arms, gathering the excess of her lose-fitting civilian sweatshirt about her in an effort to get warm.

Three days had passed, and thousands of miles later, their destination was not far away. Yet, this "New Jersey" was far too cold for her taste. It seemed her body had just adapted to the increasingly, semi-tropical climate of Ossus; and this sudden change between desert and temperate had brought that to her attention in an irritating fashion. Yet, this was not the only source of irritation in her life.

"Explain to me again why we're in a dump truck."

"Do you really have to start this again, Sam?" Alex's patience for his partner's attitude had not improved over the course of their journey.

Sam's permanent expression of condescension deepened on her face. She uttered the challenge, "yes."

That single word not only sent Alex to another level of annoyance, but had brought Marlisse beyond her now fragile threshold of calm.

The knight sent her an exasperated look. "No! You need not start this again, Sam. Because whatever you are angry about has nothing to do with our riding inside a transporter of human waste materials, and everything to do with your partner!" Her accented voice cracked like a whip from her long pent-up agitation. The healer's obsidian eyes glared sharply at Sam; her face and neck warmed from her sudden outburst. It was a serious catharsis that she had not experienced in quite some time. Her training had forbade such an act of anger - and she realized why. This was not the way a Jedi should behave.

Marlisse looked away in shame from a very shocked and quiet Sam, who now harbored a look of conviction.

Alex was surprised at the very least, but lurking beneath somewhere was amusement and appreciation for the reprimand, she sensed. Yet, confusion too plagued his mind.

This was what dictated the contemplative silence among the three individuals as the garbage truck passed through the gates of Waste Management Services.

Marlisse gathered her belongings quickly, averting the curious gaze of Alex, and stepped up to the door when the vehicle came to a halt.

The door slowly ascended out of the way, and before the continuing silence chased her out, Marlisse swiftly voiced her thanks and apologies to Alex and even more hurriedly to Sam, who chose not to make eye contact.

Outside of the garbage truck were three men in formal attire and communication devices in their ears, all apparently waiting for her. One stepped ahead of the group; a somewhat stockier man with black hair and a more approachable look about him than the other two.

"Marlice Goal?" He smiled, slaughtering her name.

She bowed slightly, and replied patiently, "Mauhrleese Gohlay."

He politely stumbled over the name again.

"I'm Agent Clay," he said, and turned to address the others behind him. "And this is Agent Stone and Agent Lime."

They smiled and nodded in greeting, as she ceremonially bowed her head to them in return. And Clay wasted no time afterwards, and turned on his heel, heading into a man-door that was propped open. He led Marlisse past them and entered the inconspicuous-looking building, which was more than obvious a front for their base. Agent Lime removed the door stop after them, and typed a code into a number pad next to the door once it had closed. She glanced back curiously at the sound of the beeps.

Clay guided them into an enormous lobby with dark stone wall and floor. It all appeared to be freshly polished - or perhaps, that was simply the nature of the stone. Her sense of smell was entertained by the conflicting scents of cleaner chemicals and dust.

All four came to a stop on a large square in front of a counter made of the same strange stone. Behind the counter was one lone figure whose features Marlisse could not distinguish from the shadows, even while squinting. Beside her, Clay pointedly nodded to the figure in question. Surprise gripped her momentarily when the square they stood upon began to descend, not quickly, but leisurely below the level of the floor, and eventually past the surface of the ground.

"So," Clay said, as he checked his tie. "Let's go meet Professor Broom."

* * *

The air was crisp, even biting, as it rushed past his exposed face, and his ears filled with the buzzing hum of his motorscooter. At least his coat and gloves were keeping the rest of him warm enough. Making a quick right turn onto the main driveway, he leaned into the turn.

He sniffed from the cold. He hadn't anticipated this degree of bitter cold when he first set out.

He hadn't anticipated several things it seemed.

Firstly, the lack of information he was given for his occupational transfer. In his line of work, however, he was used to governmental confidentiality; the cliche, 'that's classified, son'. That was something an FBI agent understood. But, this was on a level of such strict secrecy that his superior was unable to give him anything other than a time, address, and a recommended toiletry list.

Was he going undercover?

And secondly - the most obvious - the location he was directed to. This was _not_ a federal building.

The architecture was unusual, and not necessarily what he called modern. He came to a halt at the gates, and touched down with his feet for balance as he examined the old intercom unit to his left. There was a sign above it too that made him pause in confused wonderment before pressing the buzzer.

"Waster Management Services?" he asked no one in particular.

He touched the buzzer purely out of curiosity now.

"Who is it?" a voice sharply demanded.

Shocked, he hesitated for a split second. "J-John Myers, FBI," he got out. "Transfer from Quantico."

At this, the attitude put forth by the voice changed completely and became genuinely animated. "Look at the birdie, son!" An LCD screen opened up out from wall along with an eyepiece.

Myers obeyed, and peered into the eyepiece, which flashed incredibly bright and made him blink in rapid succession. On the LCD screen his ID photograph and badge numbers appeared. Although at this point he could barely see them from the obnoxious purple circle that now haunted his vision.

The gates squeaked with their first jerk when they began to open in front of him. Myers looked ahead and centered his weight on his motorscooter again, and rode through, wondering what awaited him inside.


	4. Freaking Green Martian

Author's Note: I apologize for this long hiatus! I haven't given up on this story, but with the demands of a college workload I rarely find time to write for pleasure anymore! I am sorry for not adding any more sooner *hangs head in shame* but I plan on eventually finishing this fanfic. I hope you enjoy this latest installment and please let me know what you think!

Chapter 4: Freaking Green Martian

* * *

The Professor sat at his desk looking over governmental documents, systematically eliminating the 'to do' pile into the 'done' stack. Occasionally, he would shake his head and say something to himself, but Abe couldn't actually hear it. Staying rather stationary in his tank, Abe kept an eye on the older man's work. There was something that had been bothering him, Abe decided, and the Professor wasn't volunteering the nature of that something to him. He was certain it went beyond this little cold shoulder act that the Professor was giving Red.

He suppressed a sigh – in case the intercom relayed the sound into the library – and instead shifted closer to the glass to continue his reading which consisted of four books: two were on obscure mythology, another on Medieval 'folklore', and the fourth was _Animal Farm_, which he of course chose on the Professor's recommendation.

At this thought, Abe glanced back up at Broom and found him still working away; flipping through some lengthy document, signing it, then setting it aside as a finished piece.

Abe swam to the next book, yet shifted his attention suddenly when he knew that his observations were becoming apparent to the observed. He attempted to be ignorant of Broom's glance at him, as he looked to his right - both as a cover and to make certain that the line of his Koss headphones was going to accommodate this kind of range away from the special outlet in the side of his tank. Beethoven's Symphony no. 7 was just beginning and he would rather not miss any of it should the cord come unplugged.

Minutes passed like this – silence, save for the classical music. The professor worked and Abe continued to read … and watch intermittently. After finishing the final paragraph from the fourth book, Abe was surprised to see that Broom set down his pen, stepped away from his desk and turned the pages of all four books, without being asked.

"Thank you, Professor," the intercom unit transmitted his voice into the room.

Broom gave no answer, but half-smiled in reply, and returned to his desk. Abe watched him go, now attempting to glean some ounce of emotion when his back was turned, but was unsuccessful. The professor seemed to be keeping any concerns of his locked away, his emotions checked, and really the only outward thing that pointed to the fact that he was troubled was that he was not acting quite himself. He did not normally have this kind of restrained attitude. Conservative and reserved, yes, but not like this.

Abe knew, not with whole certainty, but with at least a strong assumption that Broom was hiding something. At first, he had brushed it away, barely noticing it. But, now, that something was beginning to come to a head – he could feel it, and he wondered what on earth it was. He sensed it too that morning at the Jedi's arrival.

"She's being brought down now, Abe, if you'd like to meet her," the Professor said. He was attired in his usual suit, with his hair askew to a mild degree. He appeared normal. Yet, he was different somehow at the same time. Perhaps it was the hint of fatigue that faintly touched his face, or the weariness in his voice that he tried so hard to mask, or the way he leaned more heavily on his cane than in months past.

A few minutes later, Abe emerged from the tank, quickly pulling on his black field jacket for formality's sake. He decided against putting on his breathing apparatus because this whole thing wouldn't take that long, and also for the lack of time it would take to carefully affix around his neck. Abe hurried, too, he was just as anxious to meet the first newcomer of the day as Professor Broom was, but perhaps he was a bit more so. It would be interesting for him to be in contact with another telepath.

Due to the brevity of allowed time, he also chose to forgo any footwear, and made his way out of the library where the others were waiting for him. Beside Broom, two agents were attired in suits and ties as always, and were exchanging a few words. Beside them, a young, somewhat agitated woman in a dove gray pantsuit spoke to the professor, her arms stuffed with papers. Abe had only met her once and as he understood it, she was Dr. Manning's recently hired replacement assistant. Ever since his old assistant had retired three years before it seemed quite the task to find the right "fit," so to speak. Evidently, the past dozen or so hadn't been what Manning was looking for. Abe wondered if this unfortunate woman would be yet another to join the ever increasing ranks of rejects.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she said. "But, I swear I'm not the one who told Dr. Manning either. I don't know -"

" Miss Robinson," Broom interrupted. "I'm not concerned with who told Dr. Manning about this meeting, but simply the fact that he was informed."

"But, Professor Broom you have to understand, Dr. Manning was going to find out–"

"Find out what, Miss Robinson?" An accusatory voice questioned.

Twitchy Miss Robinson leapt with terror and dropped a few papers in the process as she whirled around to face her career's certain doom.

Manning stood behind their small crowd with a few attendants flanking him. Evidently having just rounded the corner, Manning had heard just enough to elicit some rather indignant feelings towards his new assistant.

"You know, I don't particularly appreciate it when my assistants speak about me behind my back, Miss Robinson. If someone has a problem with me, I would prefer it if they spoke to me about it to my face." Manning stepped closer to her and lowered his voice to emphasize his biting point. "It's a little thing called integrity."

Abe pitied her. He sensed that if her atoms had allowed, Miss Robinson would have melted into a viscous pool of pulp right at the feet of her most-likely former boss. But, fortunately someone was still on her side.

"Tom, please, there's so need for that," Broom said. Manning turned from his cowering underling to regard the Professor. "I was asking Miss Robinson out of curiosity why you wanted to join in on this meeting when I thought that I would be handling it myself."

"Well, Trevor, shouldn't I be here?" Manning moved past the Professor, Abe, and the others. The other agents exchanged glances among themselves before scurrying after the Professor and Abe who both were already following Manning.

"I'm the director for God's sake," Manning continued, "and we've got some freaking green Martian visiting us. Besides, I've got orders from Washington to oversee this whole thing to make sure we make a good, solid impression on it."

Abe winced at those last few words. He was quite certain Manning would make an impression upon the newcomer, but he could only wait and see what sort of one would be made.

The group wound their way down several corridors before finally rounding one last corner in those labyrinthine metal halls and started down the final passage towards the elevators. Their footfalls echoed off the metallic walls slightly muffled. Their group came to a halt at the elevators just as the lift in front of them began to come down. Professor Broom seemed to tense at its approach while Manning attempted to look at ease. He didn't succeed. Abe stepped forward and stood to the Professor's right, apparently the only one excited about this meeting.

The elevator motor hummed as the lift came down and hissed as it came to a stop in front of the welcoming party. Three agents on the lift stepped off the lift and behind them, partially hidden was a young woman, looking to be in her early to mid twenties. But, there was something about her which did not fit this age range – Abe could not understand this impression. Yet, in all fairness she could easily pass for a female human of Indian descent from her honey skin, dark eyes, and black hair. And, curiously, above each of her eyebrows were two symmetrically-placed, delicate black dots.

Abe wondered about the cultural significance of these facial tattoos.

The woman briefly surveyed the crowd before her as if mildly intimidated, her dark eyes showed bewilderment, but she composed herself. She stepped forward and drew a breath to speak finally, when -

"Hello, there," Manning began, annunciating his syllables slowly and carefully as if to pacify a crazed imbecile. "I am the di-rec-tor of this pro-gram. My name is Thom-as Mann-ing, " he said and extended his hand.

Marlisse regarded Manning's hand with a severe questioning look as if his open hand was smothered in a generous amount of fecal matter.

"Tom!" Broom said impatiently. He stepped forward, leaning on his cane, and addressed their guest, "Marlisse Gohlay, is it?"

"It is," she said, looking to him with peaked interest. Her voice carrying a peculiar accent. "And you are Professor Broom?" Following his affirmation, she bowed, placing her hands into a namaste pose. "I am honored to meet you, and your assistants."

Manning was visibly offended by being referred to as Broom's assistant and nearly began speaking again when Broom quickly held up a hand to advise him against it. "Just a moment, Tom."

Broom inclined his head briefly in return, "And we are very pleased to have here with us, Marlisse. Allow me and… Thomas," Broom cast a curious look in Manning's direction, "to show you our work here." He turned to Abe briefly, saying, "And of course our work would not be possible were it not for our agents, like Abraham Sapien."

"I am honored to meet you as well," she said, turning to the amphibian agent, and repeated her ritualistic salutation.

In good humor, Abe returned the gesture, "And I am very pleased to meet you, Knight Gohlay."

Professor Broom led the party out away from the lifts and back into depths of their facility with Marlisse at his side; Manning hovered just behind them with a sulky demeanor. Abe, fascinated by the newcomer, kept pace with them. Beside the professor, Marlisse carried herself with a regale gait, leaving behind all timidity she previously had had. Her brown Jedi robe seemed so much less humble now, but instead stately.

Abe wondered what sort of prominence she held in her Order. Was she part of their Council? How many years had she been training?

He had only seen one of the Star Wars films – he couldn't remember the title now – it was one he had watched with HB some time ago. Now was definitely the time for him to watch the rest those films. He found himself suddenly amazed that what the general public considered a fun, fictional universe to idolize in thought was actually a real place now.

He hadn't given much thought to the fact that this alien was a Jedi… until he saw her walking right in front of him now. She carried a worn, brown backpack on her back. Of many things, Abe certainly hadn't expected her Jedi dressings to look identical to what that Ben Kenobi character wore in the film. Now, he truly admired how very similar George Lucas' "franchise" was to the living and breathing Jedi Order.

HB had been far fonder of the Star Wars films than Abe had been up to this point. _Red is really going to enjoy this_, Abe was quite amused.

After an hour-long tour of the BPRD's facility, Marlisse parted ways with her host and one of the human agents led her to her very own quarters during her stay. Unfortunately, Professor Broom suddenly excused himself from the tour. Nearly all of the welcoming party, as well as Marlisse, were visibly disappointed by this. However, tomorrow, she was told, she would likely meet more of the team. The amphibian agent had quietly informed her that one of the agents she had yet to meet was, in fact, Professor Broom's son.

Marlisse liked these humans and their organization, thus far. Despite their strange director… but, perhaps he was just nervous, she reasoned.

She also felt a strong and inexplicable connection to Abraham Sapien. He was a telepath, like other Jedi, yet his went beyond what most knights and masters could do. He was actually psychometric. A very rare skill, indeed. The only Jedi she knew who possessed a handle on such an ability was Master Jinn-Bay.

The agent unlocked the 2 meter tall door in front of them, revealing a comfortable 10 meters by 10 meters room which was fully furnished with an actual bed, two chairs on opposite sides of the bed, a chest of drawers with a vanity mirror, and an armoire. All of the furniture was fashioned out a darkly-stained wood, and the fabric on the chairs was a rich maroon with a swirled design which perfectly matched the comforter. A low light emanated from one of the two floor lamps which stood in opposing corners of the room.

Marlisse stepped inside and closed the door once the agent departed and after having informed Marlisse that dinner would be available in their dining hall in two hours. With a tired sigh, she put down her back pack and sat down on the bed. Weariness from her travels suddenly weighed down on her and she found her eyelids involuntarily closing. Acquiescing to her body's need for rest, she lay down and didn't even bother to remove her boots before sleep overtook her.

_Moist, sticky, warm air made her hair cling to the nape of her neck that was already damp with sweat. Even the shade of the great canopy did little to dissuade the afternoon heat of Yavin 4. Some found the temperature unpleasant as they were accustomed to colder, more temperate climates. But she appreciated it. This reminded her of home. _

_She stood in a cool stream that had been nourished with rain for the past several days. It was the wet season here – the water was colder than usual because of it. Normally, it was lukewarm, because of the volcanic activity brewing in the distant mountainous from which the source came. _

_It was here that she came to practice her water manipulations – a rare trait among the Force-sensitive Yuroagurians, and common only in her tribe. It seemed also to accompany the healing gifts. Yet, very few of her people were able to coach her in the strengthening of this ability. There was never more than one water-shapers at a time - a pity, really. This left her mostly to figure it out on her own. _

_She breathed in deeply then released it, focusing on the Force. Smoothly she raised her arms in front of her with her palms down and wrists bent, attempting to mimic the motion of the element. _

_Before her, a think tendril of water arose out of the current as she raised her arms up and bend her wrists up again in an easy, deliberate manner. She began repeating these movements more quickly, even leaning into them, which sent the floating bough higher and higher. Soon a four meter tall, asymmetrical branch of water stooped over her, swaying gently back and forth like a tentacle of some great beast. _

_So caught up in her practices, she almost didn't pick up on a Force signature that was intensifying with every moment it drew closer. Finally, when the back of her mind could no longer afford to ignore it, her concentration wavered before it broke at a soft crunch from behind her on the bank. _

_The several gallons that composed the water-cylinder suddenly cascaded down, soaking her brown tunic from either landing directly on her or by the multiple splashes created by the tumultuous resumption of gravity. _

_She failed to hold back a gasp at the low temperature of the water, and her currently drenched state. Her head, shoulders, arms, and most of her front were sopping. It was certainly far from pleasing. _

"_What was that?" A surprised and openly amused voice questioned. _

_Wiping her face with her hands, she turned to look upon a very attractive male human. His jet black hair, captivating blue eyes, and symmetrically placed features made him a desirable member of his species. And in truth, the human was well aware of this fact. He often used it to his advantage whenever he felt the occasion called for it, and for Ganner Rhysode, it was anytime a female was present. _

_Although even she could admit that Rhysode was handsome for a human, it did not excuse his deplorably egotistical nature in her eyes, which caused her to look on him with a deep-seated distaste._

"_You broke my concentration. That is what happened," she said shortly, and shook the excess water off her hands, before proceeding to wring out her sleeves._

"_Ah. Trying to get a handle on telekinesis? Well, allow me to say that it's not something everyone can truly master," he advised smugly. Rhysode had the audacity to move closer as he continued: "Not all Jedi are really gifted save for a select few – like me actually." The human gave her a charming smile. _

_She sent him a harsh look in return. "If you are trying to improve my opinion of your race, may I say that you are doing a poor job at it."_

_Surprise seemed to sweep over her handsome feature before being replaced with doubled overconfidence. "Hold on a minute. We're both Jedi – you and I both know race should have no consequence among any of us." He smiled for good measure, as he went on. "And I'm just trying to offer some friendly advice." He came closer still, nearly stepping into the stream. His advances towards her were becoming more than just irritating. _

"_Then you are wasting your time," she said flatly._

_Now, surprise lay anchored on his face. "Excuse me?"_

_She desperately tried to quell her anger. "Ganner, among my people it is said that to be the greatest is to be a servant. Yet, you believe yourself the greatest and a master. These qualities are never compatible for mortal creatures."_

"_Well, for argument's sake you could say–"_

_That was it; she honestly couldn't stand him anymore. No matter what the masters did to quell this human's pride, nothing worked. His smugness only increased as his power did. As gifted as Rhysode was and despite his amazing potential, his own self-image was truly, his greatest weakness. Everyone saw this and very few called him out on it. This was what irked her. She knew in her heart it would cost someone dearly, one day._

_In this instance, she realized that her fuse was _unreasonably_ short, but this need for severe honesty had been building up inside for the two years she had known this man. If the masters weren't going to tell him off, she certainly would! She was tired of his attitude, tired of the way he looked down on their classmates, tired of the way he criticized Master Skywalker's leadership – she was quite finished with this man._

_For once in her life, Marlisse actually shouted. "Stop deeming yourself a deity and perhaps you shall become the knight you think you are already!"_

_She strode past him, leaving him incredibly confused at her blow out, and angered. His calm had apparently been a ruse all along. Rhysode's own anger began to billow out in the Force behind her. She could feel it. Very likely, she had made an enemy._

_But she didn't care. This experience had been too wonderfully cathartic. _

_

* * *

_

Post-Note: For those of you who have noticed, yes I did edit this chapter simply because I needed to do bit more character development for both Marlisse and Ganner, that should have been done prior to this. Hopefully it reads a bit better now!


	5. Myers Meets the Family

Author's Note:Sadly, I don't own Stars Wars, nor Hellboy; so their respective characters and concepts belong to their respective parties. However, the character Marlissee Gohlay, Adi Jinn-Bay, and the concept of Yuroagurians does belong to me.

Also, sorry guys... I know most of this is just a repeat of the movie, but I wanted to get inside of John's head so it's easier to deal with him later. The next chapter will feature everyone all together - FINALLY! Sorry for the literally years of waiting... I'm just too much of a perfectionist *sigh* :(

* * *

Chapter 5: Myers Meets the Family

* * *

John left his helmet with his scooter, after being pointed in the direction of an entrance by a security guard in the parking lot. There were as many as three other cars in the lot; really quite deserted.

He picked up his two small suitcases and moved towards the entrance door. The coolness of the autumn evening was slowly turning into a bitter cold that he was glad to escape once inside. Before him in the poorly lighted entrance hall was a security guard with standing with his hands behind his back, behind a hip-high desk. There was a slogan in Latin engraved across the length of the desk, and Myers produced a mental note of it, while turning his attention to the guard.

"Hello, I'm John. I -" He began.

"You're late. That's what you are…five minutes," said the terse guard.

"Yes, I know – I'm going to…"

"Section 51. I know. Watch your hands and elbows," he said enigmatically and didn't move from his original stance. This place was growing stranger by the moment.

"Pardon?" John was beginning to feel uncomfortable with mystery man.

The tone in the voice did not change. "Watch your hands and elbows," the watchman repeated.

John nearly asked for him to better explain himself when the floor beneath him began to descend. This square he stood on – with a seal depicting a fist gripping the hilt of a sword – was some sort of lift, hidden beneath the glossy marble floor. He noticed it stank mildly of cleaning fluid as he glided downwards.

Once the lift descended three meters, a panel directly overhead slid across the square hole he came through, completely enclosing him from the floor above. Rows of lights lit up on the walls in immediate response.

Yet, as soon as the lights came on, He looked out into the underground expanse before him, and to the left and right of him, there were other lifts. His mind reeled at the amount of engineering needed to construct and support the structure above considering the huge area beneath it. Directly across from him were several offices in which people in business attire were working as would be found in any clerical office in the United States.

Eventually, the open elevator comes to a stop in a dark circular chamber with some sub lights illuminating the area. Rust stained splotches of the cylindrical paneling. To his left were two large, precise numbers engraved into the wall: 51. However, his attention hung upon curious oak doors in front of him with three small lights shining down upon it with intricate designs upon them. Curiosity kept urging him on.

He pushed open the door with a free hand, somewhat surprised to find it unlocked, and his eyes gulped in the room within. All the while, the oddity of this situation urged Myers to keep moving forward. The place – the mysterious quality of everything here. It was more than just to be kept secret, there was something more. The room beyond was quite surprising – shelves and shelves of books lined nearly every wall, and was lit only by the reading lamps. Some lounge chairs were spread throughout the room, along with religious sculptures. One in particular drew his immediate attention, mainly due to its enormous size. The sculpture consisted of what he decided must be the archangel Michael standing with on foot upon the chest of the devil, and holding a spear at the throat of the enemy. Behind the statue was a desk cluttered with books, two reading lamps, and a computer.

He took several steps inside, and came down a few stairs. "Hello?" The mini-library appeared empty. Myers looked to his right and approached a newer strange sight, a glass wall, apparently the side of a large tank of water. Incandescent light from above the tank pierced the water and the light sent undulatory reflections in all directions.

"Turn the pages, please, if you don't mind."

The disembodied voice from an intercom on the side of the tank surprised him, and he moved closer to the tank. He could see the back of the tank easily, making this also seem empty. And just as he began to wonder where exactly the unseen speaker was, it suddenly revealed itself by _swimming_ into view!

A fish-like creature swam to the side of the tank with incredible grace and agility. Yet, the creature bore a frightening resemblance to a man due to the overall build and musculature of the body. The coloration of it was striking – pale blue and cerulean with symmetrical, yet wavy stripes lining the whole of its body. A thick membrane connected each arm to the thorax, and the shape of the hands were distinctly human, yet claws were present where fingernails should be. Gills also lay just under its jaw bone of its human-shaped head - yet the features were all wrong for a human.

Myers couldn't help but gasp and back away from a creature that couldn't have possibly existed in the outside world. The one he had left behind the lobby.

Yet, the creature was not offended, nor even discouraged by the reaction of the newcomer. "Please," the fish-man gestured to four pedestals standing before its tank that held four open books. "Turn the pages."

Myers had regained his composure by then and questioned, "These? You're _reading_ these?"

"Four books at once. Everyday," said a gentle raspy voice.

He turned to see an older man with white hair with a small beard and draping moustache standing before the previously abandoned desk. The stranger was attired in suit and tie and supported himself with a cane. "As long as I'm there to turn the pages," the man continued and descended a couple stairs towards Myers. "My name's Broom," he said and extended his hand to Myers. "Professor Trevor Broom."

Myers shook Broom's hand and began, "Sir, I'm John..."

With a smack, the fish-man put its hand back on the glass, causing the two men to look back at it. The creature began: "Agent John T. Myers. Kansas City, 1976. T stands for Thaddeus, your mother's older brother. Scar on your chin happened when you were ten and you still wonder if it's ever going to fade away."

John touched his hand to his chin to feel the shape of that old scar, while he watched in sheer amazement as quite personal information was recited to him. "How did it - ?"

Without hesitation, Broom corrected him. "He," Broom chuckled. "Not it." Broom stepped past Myers, towards the tank. "Abraham Sapien." Myers followed Broom. "Discovered alive in a secret chamber in St. Trinian's Foundling Hospital, Washington. His name was taken from this little inscription stuck to the side of his tank." Broom tapped a paper label with his cane.

Myers read, "Icthyo Sapiens, April 14, 1865."

Broom added: "The day Abraham Lincoln died. Hence 'Abraham' Sapien." Broom took a pair of tongs from a side table where several green, previously boiled and pealed chicken eggs sat in a bowl. He picked two eggs up with the tongs and placed them into a vacuum tube before sending them off into Abraham's tank. "Rotten eggs," Broom explained.

Myers gagged from the smell and resisted the urge to bury his nose in his sleeve. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed the rank odor before.

"A delicacy," Broom continued. "Abe loves them." He turned away from the tank and began to walk away towards the four different pedestals.

Myers stayed gazing into the tank for a few moments longer. "How does he know so much about me?"

Broom began turning the pages for Abe, while he elaborated, "Abe possesses a unique frontal lobe." He chuckled to himself again. " 'Unique', that's a word you'll hear frequently around here." He finished with the books and again walked away.

Myers began to trail after him and completely forgot about his suitcases still on the floor. "Sir, where am I exactly?" He glanced around the room before refocusing on the professor.

Broom turned. "As you entered the lobby, there was an inscription. 'In the absence of light, darkness prevails.'" Myers furrowed his brows at this strange beginning. Broom said, "There are things that go bump in the night, Agent Myers. Make no mistake about that. And we are the ones who _bump_ _back_."

The older professor guided Myers out of the library and down a hall until they came to a large door which had a keypad next to it. Myers noticed a rosary dangled from Broom's right wrist as the professor entered in a combination. Two large doors parted in front of them to reveal a hallway with its walls lined with dozens of display cases.

"Nineteen thirty-seven, Hitler joins the Thule Society, a group of German aristocrats obsessed with the occult." Broom walked with Myers side by side down this bizarre cement hallway with numerous displays holding artifacts, statues, and even some specimens in jars, suspended in formaldehyde. "In nineteen thirty-eight, he acquired the spear of Longinus, which pierced the side of Christ." Broom pointed with his cane to a blade which certainly appeared to have been broken off of a spear shaft.

Myers stepped forward and examined the blade on the other side of the glass, and sat upon his haunches. It was nearly two feet in length, and the middle of which was golden. Broom went on, "He who holds it becomes invincible. Hitler's power increases tenfold." Myers stood up and followed Broom once more.

Together they continued down the hallway as Broom continued his narrative. "Nineteen forty-three, President Roosevelt decides to fight back. The Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense is born." Myers walked patiently beside the professor absorbing the information. It was then he noticed the man standing at the end of the hallway next to a cart loaded with something. "Nineteen fifty-eight, the Occult Wars finally come to an end with the death of Adolf Hitler." Broom walked on, while Myers held back suddenly with puzzlement.

"Nineteen forty-five, you mean," Myers stated. Broom stopped in his tracks and turned. "Hitler died in '45." Myers reasoned. He was rather confused that as sharp as an older gentleman as Broom was that he would get his dates really mixed up.

Again, Broom chuckled and smiled - perhaps more to himself, than to Myers. "Did he now?" The professors turned and saw the man in a suit and tie behind them, standing at ease with an earpiece in his left ear. Now, Myers could make out what was on the cart. It was loaded down entirely with food.

"Oh, uh, Myers," he turned to from the man and then to Myers again. "This is Agent Clay. Take his lead." Broom reached into a pocket of his suit and pulled out two Baby Ruth candy bars. "He'll make the introductions."

Myers took them with some hesitation. Why did Broom just hand him candy bars? "Uh, you're not coming?" Myers gestured to the sealed steel door behind Clay.

Broom stopped, and turned slowly. "I handpicked you from a roster of over seventy academy graduates." Broom said with some emphasis, "Make me proud." The professor turned back and began to walk away again.

"They're not speaking," said the hitherto silent Clay. Myers turned to face him. Who's he not speaking to? Clay took something from off of his belt and spun on his heel to face the steel door. "Professor Broom had him grounded."

Myers was mostly definitely confused. "Uh, grounded?" He walked up to the door beside Clay. "Who's grounded?"

Clay plugged a peculiar device into an even stranger jack in the door and turned it a quarter of a revolution to the left. A loud click echoed from this apparent giant lock mechanism, and Clay took hold of the multi-armed handle of the door and spun this to the left. It was a bank vault door. More clicks were heard and a red light flipped from out of the wall and began to flash accompanied with a rhythmic buzzing. "Okay. You saw the fish guy right?"

Myers responded, "Oh, yeah. That was weird," he raised his eyebrows.

Clay enigmatically said, "Yeah, right." He turned around again and pulled open the vault door which was close to a foot thick. Even Clay, as physically fit as a field agent is required to be, obviously had to use some elbow grease to swing it wide. He stepped forward looking to Myers. "Well, come on in. Meet the rest of the family."

Myers was surprised to say the least… Exactly what was this new assignment going to entail?

Clay got behind the cart and began pushing it through the open doorway. "He gets fed six times a day. He's got a thing for cats." That was an understatement. Likely a dozen cats filled the room and the room itself was rather cluttered with various items on the floor. There was a continuous chorus of meowing. A most remarkable aspect of it all was the wall of televisions showing various clips of TV shows and video recordings. The most common video loop of these home videos featured a young woman in black, with long black hair, and a fair complexion. Myers figured it was simply something on TV and nothing more, but couldn't help but be momentarily caught up in looking at her. "You'll be his nanny, his keeper, his best friend. He never goes out unsupervised."

Myers tore his attention away from the woman on the screen to ask: "Who?"

Clay didn't answer, but simply picked up and handed a comic book to Myers in explanation. Myers looked at the cover and read the title 'Hellboy: Cry…Kriegaffe!' The cover depicted the character Hellboy fighting an enormous humanoid covered in bolts coming from its body. But, while he looked over the comic, another voice spoke up.

"I hate those comic books." A deep, masculine voice commented.

Myers glanced up from the comic and gazed past the cover. He jumped in surprise. The figure on the cover and the entity standing a small distance in front of him bore an unmistakably clear resemblance to each other.

"They never get the eyes right." A red-skinned, muscled, powerfully built and overall singular person commented. He was weight lifting with an incredibly large dumbbell, with a lit cigar stub in his mouth and intermittent clouds of smoke being exhaled. Myers simply stood there, wide-eyed and starring. He looked back the comic book and then back to the real thing.

"Hellboy," breathed Myers. "He's real."

"Sixty years old by our count. But he doesn't age like we do," Clay explained to him, but not quite loud enough for the entity in front of them to overhear. "Think reverse dog years. He's barely out of his twenties."

Then, he spoke again. Myers could only stare. "What's with the hair, Clay? Finally got them implants, huh?"

Clay chortled, and self-consciously ran a hand through his new hair. "It'll fill in."

"Who's the squirt?" Hellboy asked, still contentedly bringing the weight to his chest, then letting it descend. Myers watched the interchange in stunned silence, but began to tremble when he became the center of attention in this bizarre situation.

"Agent Myers is your new liaison," Clay told him. Myers unconsciously held his breath for the forthcoming reaction. He didn't know what to make of this new job, let alone how this comic book hero-come-to-life would react.

The dumbbell fell to the floor with a BANG! Myers nearly jumped, but barely suppressed his reaction to a twitch. Damn, that was a huge weight! He felt the floor transmit the vibration from it into his feet. Obviously, this wasn't sitting well with the big guy.

"I don't want him," he snapped. But, changed his tone back to a friendlier one when regarding the BPRD agent. "What, you get tired of me, Clay?"

Instead of immediately answering Hellboy, Clay gave Myers a nudge. He urged, "The candy. Give him the candy."

Myers gathered himself and remembered he still had the Baby Ruth bars in hand, at Clay's prompting. "Oh, sir, I…I have these for you." He carefully handed them off to Hellboy.

Rather abruptly, Hellboy accepted them with a hint of realization on his face. "Father's back?" He asked Clay, and when Clay nodded in reply, he probed further, "He still angry?"

Clay said, "Well, you did break out."

Myers wasn't too fond of that concept. He broke out? What would he do when Myers was supposed to be watching him? This job was starting to be a bit more than he thought he could handle. _I'm definitely sending one _hell _of an__ email to my old supervisor_. Myers had taken this position at his old boss's insistence. Was this supposed to be a joke? Myers wasn't particularly amused if it was.

"I wanted to see her," the big guy said, and added gruffly: "It's nobody's business." He turned away from them.

"It is. You got yourself on TV again," Clay pointed out.

Hellboy ignored the stinging logic, and instead focused his attention on John again. "Myers, huh? You got a first name, Myers?"

Myers was close to being frightened by being in his focus again, and now that Hellboy came closer, he couldn't quite tear his eyes away from that intense face and what very clearly appeared to be the stumps of horns on Hellboy's forehead!

Clay apparently picked up on this, and quietly advised, "Try not to stare. He hates it when people stare."

Myers concentrated on the question before considering Clay's advice. "John. John Myers. Well, John'll do." He stammered out. Then, quietly asked Clay, "Stare at what?"

"His horns," Clay said. "He files them to fit in."

Yet, even as Clay said this, John found himself staring all the more at Hellboy's forehead. It was like a magnetic attraction. Dear God! He couldn't stop looking! And it wasn't so much that the sight of them was hideous or vile, but rather seeing horns upon the head of an animal was one thing, but seeing them on the head of a person was an entirely different sight!

"Whatcha looking at, John?" Hellboy knew very well what Myers was fixated on, and was quite goaded by it.

Finally, Myers got a hold of himself, but a bit too late for excuse. "Oh, no, no, no. Nothing. Nothing at all." He tried to cover up this shortcoming despite the obviousness. This situation was certainly not going the way he planned, neither going the way he hoped!

Yet, his fortune was beginning to change, finally. An alarm pierced the tight atmosphere, and a red light on the wall to their left came to life and spun in place, producing flashes. An automated voice also accompanied the commotion: "Code Red!"

Hellboy again changed his attitude as he regarded Clay, "Hey, hey, hey.."

The alarm system continued to blare, "Warning. Code Red."

"...They're playing our song." Then, gave Myers a look of challenge. "Come on, champ, let's go fight some monsters."

* * *

Prior to the alarms going off, in an entirely different section of this underground compound, there was another and friendlier first conversation going on.

After dinner, Marlisse had been spotted by Abe wandering back to her quarters when he invited her to join him on a second tour of the BPRD compound, as her first one was rather socially uncomfortable.

_Marlisee had been sad to see Professor Broom excuse himself from the tour earlier than was planned, with a vague reason as to why he would have to rejoin them later. She wondered at this, and noted that Abraham also took notice. _

_Once Broom left, the supervisor took over the tour and it become all too obvious he was more concerned with bragging of his own capabilities and accomplishments as a director, and making more than one reference to humans being the one bright and shining hope against the cloud of darkness that is non-human, sentient life on their planet. 'No offense, Agent Sapien,' Manning had said more than once, and smiled that fake diplomatic smile he was just too good at. _

"I wanted to say I'm really sorry about... well... everything he said, Knight Gohlay," Abe said, still reeling from the embarrassment together with his own offense. He walked side by side Marlisse down another metal hallway with no particular direction in mind. This wasn't going to be much of a tour he knew, but rather a chance to talk. She did not seem to mind.

"I appreciate that, Agent Sapien, but there is no need for _you _to apologize," she said with a gruff emphasis. They both knew who she was referring to. Abraham wasn't responsible for what his supervisors said. "And please," she added gently, "please call me, Marlisse."

"Oh, ah, of course. Marlisse," he stammered out. He was caught off guard by the sudden lack of formality; he had been prepared for a very long apology. "Thank you. But, please call me Abraham. Or, Abe, if you'd like."

She noticed he tended to gesticulate when he spoke, and found it to be an amusing quirk. The only people she knew to do this were politicians, but their form of doing so was obviously rehearsed and chiefly to draw the attention of the listener. His way of waving his hands (or fins?) about was honest and raw. She appreciated his honesty and openness. He reminded her of Master Cilghal in some ways.

His outward anatomy was different from her teacher's, though. He possessed very finger-like digits; actually quite humanoid-looking. Although, he did have four small suction-cups beneath his four finger-digits, along with various smaller cups on the palms of his hands. Also, his eyes tracked objects together, instead of being independent, like Mon Calamari. Neither did he smell of moistened salt...

"Thank you," she said, meeting his eyes and looked for approval when she added, "Abraham." He nodded.

Marlisse appreciated the fact that he did not attempt to sense her thoughts, but rather stayed neutral and respectful. This was a liberating sense after being surrounded by other Jedi for so long. He didn't intrude.

They continued onward in contemplative silence for several minutes down the same hallway with little to look at on the nearly bare metal walls. This was an older section of the compound, and much of the area was apparently being remodeled, with blue tarps hung over open spaces where doors should be. However, there was no activity at the moment in this construction zone. At the moment, their footfalls were the only embellishment in the pregnant silence. She broke up the monotony with: "In my galaxy, overt xenophobia is still unfortunately common, or at least in the Outer Rim Worlds. However, in more civilized systems, saying such things could very easily lead to a lawsuit. Especially if the slanderer is a human." She didn't quite know why she just said that. Certainly, she was still sore thinking over Manning's comments, but really she said it more for Abraham's sake. Perhaps he would appreciate a point of view in which different species were not an overlooked - and apparently - mistreated minority.

He did appreciate it. In fact he chuckled when he replied, "Then it is very good that he doesn't live your galaxy. He'd have a multitude of lawsuits."

She smiled at him and met his mirthful gaze, and opened her mouth to speak more on the matter...

An alarm suddenly filled the hallway and was accompanied by red flashing lights, which stopped both of them dead in their tracks. She looked to his reaction to perhaps understand it, but Abraham did not seem too concerned. A droid-like voice announced, "Code Red! Warning. Code Red!" Here in the hall it really seemed to reverberate against the walls.

She drew close to him so she could be heard over the amplified sirens."What's...?"

Abraham shook his head. "It's nothing to be alarmed about," he spoke above noise. "We're about to do some field work."


	6. The Whole Lonely Hero Thing

Author's Note: At long last! The long anticipated update! I can't tell you how many times, I've edited this chapter, sorry guys. But, I hope you enjoy this slightly longer chapter. Please leave a review!

* * *

Chapter 6: The Whole "Lonely Hero" Thing

* * *

Through the one-way Plexiglas walls of the garbage truck's hopper, a good-sized crowd had pooled around the outside of the library. Swarms and swarms of them. Practically leaving fingerprints all over the outside of the truck. Within the hopper, there were several shelves filled with necessary equipment for their line of work: a fully stocked crime scene lab, along with field gear and numerous relics meant for any 'unholy' entity they might encounter. Among their bottles and potions of varying colors, were built-in cages with live chickens. It was hardly a silent trip being penned up with them. "_Bauk, bauk… bauk... Baauukaaawww! _"

It was a strange sensation for him, being shielded from the sight of most of humanity. He lived this way all of his life; he could see them all living their lives in modern society, in freedom, while he remained behind a thin veneer of a barricade. Look, but don't go outside. Defend, but take no credit. No outside recognition. How bad could the public react? Unlike the higher-ups, he did want to know. He didn't like the secret – what was there to hide? He certainly _could_ go out if he wanted, and feel what is it was to be outside… like everyone else. Without the babysitters. And he had! Several times over, even recently...

Father wasn't pleased about it, though. Mostly because Manning got on his case. Manning really needed a better hobby than being the pin in everyone's-

His attention drifted to the mounted police officer that rode by. Part of the needed crowd control. The people would be pressed up against the passing SWAT vans, paramedics, and their garbage truck had the police not been present. There was a good three hundred outside.

"Look at them ugly suckers, Blue." HB didn't turn to look to his lone companion in the hopper, but continued staring out at them. "One sheet of glass between them and us." And part of him really wanted to be outside with them, no matter what he said. He pressed a switch which slide a secondary wall into place, blocking out the people.

Abe Sapien wasn't impressed. "Story of my life." He began affixing a U-shaped breathing apparatus around his neck, supplying his gills with water again. The device released a hiss after snapping into the high, black collar of his field jacket. Abe wasn't one to complain. Being inside all his life didn't bother him… of course he lived most of his life in water...in a _tank_, anyway. Abe was predisposed to contentment with boundaries. His opinion didn't count.

Hellboy remained in the same spot, still seeing them all in his mind. All of them. But, his consciousness began to drift to one human in particular. "Outside," he said nostalgically. "I could be outside."

"You mean, outside with her," Abe corrected.

"Don't get psychic with me, fella," HB warned. He picked up a large utility belt from a nearby cart and strapped it about his waist. From it hung amulets, small glass vials of relics, and a set of rosary beads.

"Nothing psychic about it," Abe remarked. "You're easy."

Hellboy finally peeled himself away from the window/wall and opened a metal box upon a tool chest on wheels. The box had stenciled lettering on its cover, 'GOOD SAMARITAN'. He retrieved an enormous revolver from the box; far larger than any human hand could wield. "How am I gonna to get a girl? I drive around in a garbage truck."

"Liz left us, Red," Abe remarked matter-of-factly. "Take the hint."

HB slammed the revolving cylinder into place, and faced his friend. "We don't take hints." He lifted aside his long, brown leather coast and holstered the massive weapon. " 'Sides, it sounds like you found yourself one, and here _you_ are."

"I am not in a relationship with Marlisse, Red. Nor, am I attracted to her like that, I just met her," said Abe, becoming ever so slightly defensive.

"Yeah, okay," HB sounded hardly convinced. "What's her story, anyway? Why is she here?"

"Hm, well, from what we know so far she's a very nice young woman, and apparently she specializes in healing….but even I don't know why she's here. I suppose you'll just have to ask her, yourself."

* * *

She was impressed by the eruption of activity when they left the BPRD's pseudonymous headquarters. The heels of her knee-high, field boots mutedly tapped with every step upon the cement floors, but the sound hardly garnered her attention. Agents – both men and women – scurried up and down, and from left to right around her in the corridor. Many carried clipboards full of papers, while others were speaking into com units hooked to their ears – several agents did both.

Particularly preoccupied men and women paid little attention to her and swiftly moved past. Some uttered polite excuses as they rushed past, while a few curtly brushed past. At least two of them ran down the hall towards her and dove into a single large entryway which she passed by. After the galactic civil war, Marlisse had grown accustomed to the chaos of war, the innumerable battle after battle; the war meetings, debriefings, tending the sick, tending the injured, attending yet another interment, running back and forth because she was needed in ten places at once!… In comparison, this situation was a bite of muja fruit, a walk through a tepid meadow stream. Marlisse retained an equilibrium of mood, instead of anxiety or even excitement. If the agents were injured, she would attend them. If there was a conflict, she would fight. This had been her choice to come here… this was her duty. And it did not daunt her.

She was making progress.

After Abe left her side to ready himself for the mission ahead, Marlisse soon met and was escorted by a man who identified himself as Agent Moss. He was in his early to mid thirties, and though his face was youthful, he had already lost half of his shortly cropped brown hair to a distinctly human aging process: androgenic alopecia (or, as some called it, male pattern baldness). His was a calm demeanor in the midst of the maelstrom of frantic people around them. As according to protocol, he was attired in a suit and tie. He made conversation easily with her, and met her with kind brown eyes. He spoke of his experience with the BPRD, at her request, and described the creatures they dealt with – either forcefully or amicably.

Marlisse continued abreast of Moss, until they came and stepped onto a lift not unlike the one she utilized to enter this area from above. Together, they ascended at least twenty stories before the agent led her off of the halted elevator and into an enormous docking bay, with various emergency vehicles being prepped for their embarkation… along with a garbage truck. It was similar but not identical to the truck she arrived in. She smirked at this. How peculiar and clever they were to use waste transporters for cover! Moss pointed to the vehicle they would be riding in: a rounded rectangular prism with wheels… with the acronym 'SWAT' painted on the side.

As Moss headed towards the open doors of the vehicle, one of the great bay doors before them opened by rolling up and out of the way. Instantly, autumn winds freely streaked inside the bay and swept Marlisse's dark hair off of her shoulders. Had she not be attired in her tunic and overtunic, and cloak, she would have been left shivering. Never in her life did she enjoy cold weather. She had never been cold on Yuroaguria. It served as a cruel reminder that she could never return home, her birthplace… A heaviness gripped her heart.

War had taken much from her.

Marlisse soon crowded in beside Moss and eight other field agents - with three of them introducing themselves as Stone, Quarry, and Lime - within the vehicle they referred to as a 'van'. Half of the group was seated on a bench attached to the wall of the cramped cargo bay of the vehicle, and the other half sat on an identical bench opposite of them. Everyone's knees nearly touched the knees of the person opposite them. Their close proximities and mingled breaths quickly chased the chill from Marlisse's body and their quiet, amiable conversations about their everyday lives drove away her lingering nausea-spawning grief. She felt at home with these men. They didn't discuss the mission ahead; it had already been articulated enough for now. Instead, a sporting event dominated their conversation – 'football' – which she was not familiar with. Mirthfully, she wondered what drove this obsession with a ball?

She noticed the agents had armed themselves with handguns. Their guns were quite primitive – everything was quite primitive compared to the technological luxuries enjoyed by the 'civilized' parts of her galaxy. But, primitiveness did not bother her, nor insult her. Her culture – or what remained of it – was termed primitive in the eyes of many. If anything, simplicity was something she treasured.

From what she understood and was told along the way, Professor Broom rode in another vehicle and arrived before her. As soon as the double doors of the van opened at the library's docking station, she and the agents piled out. Clay and more agents were waiting for them, and in a very gentlemanly manner, Clay offered a hand when Marlisse stepped down from the vehicle. She politely took it.

"The Professor and the others are waiting upstairs," he said, and pointed his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the staircase behind him. "Moss'll show you the way." He looked to the other agent and said, "Go on, I gotta unload Red and Blue, but make sure the area is secure, first."

Marlisse nodded and looked to Moss. She hardly knew who Clay was referring to.

"Let's go, gentleman," Agent Moss looked to the agents behind him. They moved out to the doors at opposite ends of the building. Marlisse remained with Clay. Within five minutes, just Moss and Stone returned and instead of heading for the stairs, they and Marlisse remained at the docking station; apparently waiting to unload whoever 'Red' and 'Blue' were.

The dump truck finally neared the docking station, and stopped prior to turning around to back into the station. A lone agent quickly exited the passenger side of the truck cab – a young man, perhaps in his late twenties or less – who jogged out of the way of the truck and stepped up onto the platform that Clay and Marlisse stood upon. Several agents who rode in Marlisse' van assembled around the mouth of the dock, gazing outwards towards the masses obscured from her view. The dump truck rolled backwards towards the docking station in order to deliver its cargo now, while Clay directed it. The young man had dark auburn hair and blue eyes which were all situated upon an innocent face. His hair was nearly plastered to his scalp with hair products and severely parted to one side, making him appear professional, yet naive.

Upon stepping onto the cement platform, the young man's face displayed a smile nearly stretching from ear to ear. Marlisse attempted to return his enthusiasm, but was minorly disturbed by his unanticipated exuberance.

"Hello, I-I'm Agent John Myers, I heard about you on the way over here – well, I mean that I heard I was going to be working with you, on the way over here." As far as conversations go, Myers broke out into a sprint the moment he started, and extended his right hand to shake hers. "I'm just very pleased to be working along a Jedi Knight, you have no idea. I never knew you – I mean – the Order was real."

Marlisse simply smiled and allowed her hand to be shaken off her wrist by young Myers. She couldn't deny it was encouraging to be appreciated among these people. _If only everyone could feel this way about the Jedi_, she tried not to think about the Jedi-loathing government who commanded her own galaxy. And she agreed with Myers' continuing monologue. How uncanny it was that some man named George Lucas residing on this planet should make films concerning individuals from her galaxy with frightening accuracy in historical details!

"But, I'm sorry; I'm completely getting carried away. Can I ask what your name is?" He said, and released her hand.

"Marlisse Gohlay," she replied. "And I am pleased to meet you, Agent Myers. Have you been with the BPRD for long?" She couldn't help wondering, considering his youthful appearance. He appeared to be quite new to all of this.

"No, I just transferred from another governmental branch. This is my first day with them."

"Ah," she said with chuckle. "Then we are both, as they say…_newbies_. It is my first day as well."

The garbage truck came to a halt at the dock in front of them.

"Seal the doors," Clay announced into his headset. "Red and Blue are coming in."

The rear door of the garbage truck opened and the door slowly lowered to the level of the platform. Clay, Marlisse, and Myers were part of a growing crowd of agents that stood expectantly before the truck. No one was moving for the stairs just yet.

The rear door revealed both Abraham Sapien - now outfitted in full gear which besides black, padded clothing included a respirator - and a large, red, imposing male humanoid. He was dressed mostly in black and wore combat boots, as well as a tan, floor length jacket. The newcomer's forehead contained two very large, smooth horn stumps, which she guessed he had sawed off. His right forearm and hand were probably the most peculiar of all of his features because it was proportionally enormous compared to the rest of his body, and appeared to be made out of… stone? She couldn't quite tell at first glance and didn't wish to stare.

Overall, the entity's appearance held no shock for Marlisse, simply because her galaxy was home to all shapes and sizes of sentient species. His questioning and intimidating stare was what held most of her attention. His eyes were a golden yellow, set within his skull deeply with prominent brow line. However, whatever scrutinizing attitude that he may have held, began to fade away as he studied her clothing carefully. He held a shortened, smoldering cigar between his lips.

Together, Abe and his co-worker stepped out of the vehicle and joined the others on the platform. Both of their gazes switched between Clay and the two new members of their team.

"Okay, guys, let's sync up our locators," said Clay. He touched a sensor on his belt, before looking up at the red humanoid again. "Red, this is Jedi Knight…" Clay turned to glance at Marlisse, stopping in mid sentence, evidently unsure of how to say her name, or otherwise had forgotten it. Marlisse would have forgiven him for either. He was a well-meaning man, at least.

She took the cue and introduced herself to 'Red', and inclined her head in greeting. After hearing her name again, Clay went on, "Marlisse, this is Agent Hellboy. He's our primary agent here at the BPRD."

Hellboy simply shook his head in disbelief. "Wow... I'm having a hard time wrapping this around my head." Yet, he wasted no time indulging his curiosity by approaching her directly. He nodded curtly at her waist. "Let's see the lightsaber."

Marlisse was taken aback by his forwardness, but she complied and gingerly brushed back the side of her brown cloak to expose the cylindrical weapon that hung above her left hip, from her utility belt by a clip. The main shaft of the weapon was under a foot in length and picked up the overhead lights, shining like polished steel. Two miniature, black dials and a larger red button - halfway down the shaft of the hilt - protruded from the lightsaber.

All of the present agents followed Red's gaze to the lightsaber, as none of them had ever laid eyes upon a real (no longer fictitious) weapon of the Jedi.

HB nodded in approval. "_Nice_ - Can I see it for a minute?" he asked, and extended his left hand out.

Again, the agent took her by surprise. She gaze left his open palm to his deep-set golden eyes, she wasn't quite sure why she even hesitated. She thought perhaps, it was because she really didn't wish to offend him. His intimidating presence alone was one indicator that making him angry would be a regrettable action… but…

Beside her, she sensed Myers tense. She cast a glance at him; his blue eyes were wide with concern. He was evidently too intimidated to answer HB's question for Marlisse. Conveniently, Clay was busy speaking to someone on the other end of his earpiece and unseeingly watched this unfold. "Yes, I understand, sir," he said, with two fingers on the walkie-talkie.

"Red," Abe spoke up, with something similar to a parental tone. "She is not going to let you play with her _lightsaber_." He now flanked HB.

"Hey, ya know, I asked the lady, not you," he informed Abe.

"Alright, let's go gentlemen," Clay finally butted in. He started walking backwards and waved them on. "We're needed upstairs."

Clay turned on his heel and advanced the cement stairs before them, and the others followed. HB was on Clay's heels momentarily due to the great distance his long strides covered. Abe, Marlisse, Myers, and the other men walked briskly after him. Past the staircase, Clay led them through the main lobby with various lit display cases, and Hellboy kept pace with the leading agent.

"So, what's this all about?" HB asked.

"At nineteen hundred hours, an alarm was tripped," Clay began, casting a glance at Red. They reached a marble staircase and ascended it, as the agent continued: "A large entity, type five reported. Very aggressive... "

"What is a type five entity?" Marlisse asked softly of Abraham. Her volume was quiet enough not to interrupt HB and Clay, but Myers overheard and looked to Abe for an answer to that himself.

"- six guards dead," Clay added.

"Hmm," Abe dipped his head in thought for a moment. "I believe you'll see soon enough," Abe said good-naturedly.

Marlisse simply nodded in confirmation. Myers didn't seem satisfied by the answer, however.

As they rounded a corner of a hallway, HB commented, "I thought we checked this place. Fakes and reproductions."

"Apparently, not everything was fake."

All of them came to a halt at the sound the voice of Professor Broom. Their eyes looked up to see the older man standing before them, leaning on his cane. A few agents stood guard nearby, behind Broom.

"Father," Hellboy said simply, in greeting. But, there was an underlying reverence in his tone. Red held this man, his father, in very great esteem.

Marlisse's gaze flicked back and forth between the aged human and the imposing, red humanoid. So, this was Professor Broom's son! How utterly curious... and yet, here was a sign attesting to the great character of this human man. He had adopted a person from outside of his race, on a planet that clearly despised differences. What an incredible, giving heart... No wonder Broom held a high position in the BPRD. Non-judgmental persons like Broom were very needed in this bureau.

They walked up a final few steps and joined the Professor and his small entourage, along with a sizable cabinet on wheels… Marlisse could only guess it was filled with specialized equipment. Before them, stood a pair of huge, closed brass doors.

"The entity is still in there," Broom spoke, mostly to his son who was preparing himself the best way he knew how. Hellboy opened the cabinet to reveal an impressive miscellany of bullets lining the inner sides of the cabinet. "Video surveillance shows a 16th century statue was destroyed. Dionysius the Areopagite."

"Who wards off demons," Hellboy recited.

Marlisse wondered then on how a statue of a person could possibly ward off demons. These Earthlings had very odd religious ideas as to how the power of Yeshua works. Why not operate in the authority of His Name?

"Exactly," his father replied. "The statue, however, was hollow."

"A reliquary."

"A prison," Broom corrected.

Marlisse saw movement out of the corner of her eye and watched as Abraham removed one of his gloves. He stretched out his webbed digits and affixed his suction-cup bearing hands to the door with a moist, _smack_. He closed his eyes, and Marlisse was surprised to find she could actually _sense_ him through the Force, stretching out psychically. That was quite interesting… and what was more that she herself could not sense the creature within. That was also curious.

His father continued: "The Vatican deemed its occupant dangerous enough to include it on the List of Avignon, of which, by the way, we hold a copy."

"Perfect job for these babies," HB commented to Myers and Marlisse who stood nearest him. Her attention snapped back to the transparent bullet that the humanoid held in his hand to show them. Slivers and chunks of various materials that she couldn't clearly identity lay at the bottom of the fluid-filled cylinder. "Made them myself. Holy water, clove leaf, silver shavings, white oak. The _woyks_," he explained, with an amusing pronunciation. He loaded the revolving cylinder of a gigantic pistol he had drawn from the holster at his hip. No doubt, the weapon weighed at least 13 kilograms. It was laughable enormous!

Abruptly, Abraham pulled his hand off of the door with a small cry of surprise, and a notable which instantly drew everyone's attention. He faced his new audience and pointed to the door behind him. "Behind this door, a dark entity. Evil, ancient - and hungry."

Marlisse again attempted to stretch out and sense this thing... But, there was something blocking her mind to it. What was going on? She laid a hand to her lightsaber. She observed the agents around her and they seemed appeared passive concerning the situation. They all stood at ease - all of them, except for Myers who was still quite new to all of this.

"Oh, well... Let me go in and say "Hi"." Hellboy jerked the pistol forward, which slammed shut the gun's cylinder into place.

The towering humanoid strode towards the large bronze doors, and Clay stepped forward to open one of them for him. Once he was through, the heavy door softly thudded closed after Hellboy.

Marlisse kept her eyes trained upon the doors, and took a deep breath. She stretched out with her feelings and allowed the Force to flow through her, informing her of all of the humans within this chamber with her, and Hellboy in the room beyond. Immediately, Hellboy's strong self-confidence hung at the edge of her consciousness, Myers' anxiety billowed out like a cloud that enveloped her, and Broom's restrained concern trickled into her mind. The mildly musty odor of the library tripled under the influence of the Force, and her ears were attuned to the muted sound of the multiple hearts beating within the room, including her own. Male perfume, a smell she hadn't noticed before, now joined the dankness of the building in her nostrils.

Fabric brushing against fabric as the agents shifted in their positions throughout the room was a strange cacophony. The occasional movement of Broom's cane against the floor was a soft drum in her ear. Roughly half of the other agents projected mild waves of boredom, while the others positively buzzed in the Force with focused excitement.

Abraham was the only one of the group that exhibited any shred of serenity. She willed her senses to stay clear of his mind, as any attempt to touch his consciousness could potentially be taken the wrong way since he would be fully aware of the intrusion. Her eyes were on his back, though, as he retreated to a collection of tomes which he began to scan through. Myers trailed after Abe, often casting a glance back to the great bronze doors, before looking back at Abe.

"Hey, no one goes with him? Jesus." Myers asked, clearly disturbed about the vulnerability that a lone agent is always subject to.

Marlisse frowned at his irreverence, but she could understand his concern. There was a danger in this practice. Going alone, whether by habit or necessity, was not a safe practice. This was true of Jedi, and it certainly would be true of these agents. It was a good way to get killed.

However, Abraham was not worried in the slightest. "No, he likes it that way." He continued intently searching through the titles on the binding of the books, until finally he picked one up. He rolled his wrist in a circular motion, as if beckoning the right words. "The whole "lonely hero" thing."

In curiosity, she walked over to Abe's side, near Myers, and looked at the book which held her new friend's attention. The book appeared old and worn, with yellowed pages and mildly damaged pages. Upon the pages that Abe read from, there was an image of a greatly unusual-looking being with many eyes, and many tentacles. It seemed unlikely to possess a friendly nature. Marlisse heard vague murmurs from Abe's walkie-talkie.

"Red, I found something," Abraham announced over his connection. "This entity's name is Sammael, the desolate one. Son of Nergal, brother of..." He stopped abruptly. Abe placed his index finger under the line he had been reading from, and gave a sigh. He shook his head - not at the contents of the page - but more likely at the disinterest of the person on the other line.

Marlisse leaned a little closer in hopes of gleaning some facts for herself, while Abe waited on Hellboy to listen. She found to her disappointment that the language was foreign to her eyes, although it clearly used an identical writing system to Galactic Bas- English, she corrected herself. Very likely Abraham would have told her what the rest of the passage meant if she asked, but she didn't wish to interrupt him while he worked.

She looked up at the doors when shots rang out in close sucession behind the bronze doors. A moment of stillness fell over them again.

"Red, you need to hear the rest of the information," Abe advised.

She heard a murmur of a response from Abe's walkie-talkie.

"No, listen to this," Abe insisted, and his finger slowly slid along with line of script as he read along. "Sammael, the desolate one, lord of the shadows...son of Nergal, hound of resurrection..."

There was a pause, while Hellboy responded.

"What? Hound of resurrection?" Abraham questioned. He then went on: "Harbinger of pestilence. Seed of destruc -"

Hellboy interrupted him.

"Hm, doesn't say," Abe replied, and cocked his head in mild curiosity. He flipped the page he was on, searching any useful information, before turning back to the previous page. "That's too bad," he said, and closed the book.

As she watched him set the book back, she frowned and asked: "What is too bad?"

Abraham waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, he wanted to know how to kill this... entity, and unfortunately," he touched the cover of the book, while his eyes looked for another useful volume, "this source doesn't contain that sort of information. I doubt the author actually thought anyone would be hunting it..."

"I see. So, this sort of creature... the general public here would not be aware of it's existence?"

"Oh, absolutely not!" Abraham glanced up at her. "And part of our job here is to make sure they stay ignorant of such things." His right hand slid over the covers of several bindings, and stopped. He picked up another volume and opened it to the first few pages, as its binding cracked in protest. His eyes quickly examined each page, prior to turning to the next one. "The majority of humans here on Earth do not have any idea such creatures exist, although a few may have their suspicions."

Myers snorted, then smiled and said to Marlisse: "This morning, I was definitely part of the majority."

She returned the smile, and nearly commented on his statement when her attention was ripped elsewhere. The bronze doors were suddenly struck by something considerably large and with such force that they bent outwards towards their group. Everyone jumped. Yet, the agents weren't standing still for long. Marlisse unclipped her lightsaber in a split second, and gripped it in her right hand, but didn't ignite it.

Ever the collected leader, Clay immediately began instructing the other agents throughout the library and around its grounds. An agent she had not met before barked at Moss and the other men: "Go to the front. Let's go! Move!" He and half of the present agents retreated back through the hallway in a dead run, but with their firearms safely angled at the ground.

Professor Broom appeared slightly concerned by the sudden turn of events, but his face revealed far less than the emotions Marlisse sensed through the Force. He was genuinely worried for his son.

Instead of following Clay, Marlisse was not keen on backtracking all the way to the front of the building. Hellboy likely required aid more quickly than that. So, there had to be another way to get to him! She hesitated at the thought of opening the bronze doors, as that creature was still on the loose, and she would unintentionally put everyone's life at risk by going that way. In the midst of her thoughts, she spotted a closed door to her right out of the corner of her eye. Marlisse accordingly turned in that direction.

Myers, though, was half a second faster in spotting the other door, and ran. He also drew his pistol, and declared, "I'm going around the back."

Marlisse took off after him.


	7. Trick or Treat?

**Some Quick Notes: **Thanks for your patience - to everyone still reading. I know I'm not a very fast updater... unfortunately school and personal issues arose (and said issues have thankfully resolved) and prevented me from posting sooner...

In my defense, I ended up having to split this chapter into two separate ones because it got so long. That said, there will be flashback in this chapter to unveil a little bit of Marlisse' past... character development, you know. Bear with me if you aren't familiar with Star Wars books... any questions that may arise will be clarified!

Since this is the first half of what would have been one chapter, the second half of this will be coming out relatively soon... or at least sooner than I usually update - my apologies!

Finally, a special thanks goes to **Darth Ocnarf** for taking the time to review the last chapter!

* * *

Disclaimer: The film Hellboy, including the characters and concepts, belong to Revolution Studios amongst others, while the work on which it was based belongs to Mike Mignola. The universe of 'Star Wars' belongs chiefly to George Lucas including the characters and concepts. I have no ownership over either, whatsoever. I wrote this for pleasure and not profit, no illegal infringement was intended. However, I do own (as far as that extends) the original characters: Marlisse Gole, Adi Jinn-Bay, and the concept of Yuroagurians.

* * *

Chapter 7: Trick or Treat?

* * *

Myers burst through the closed maintenance door, and Marlisse was nearly running upon his heels. Had there not been a doorstop, the doorknob would have undoubtedly left a gash in the wall. They sped down a narrow, grease-stained stairwell, passing doors which led out to the different levels within the library. He was fast for a human.

At the end of the stairs, a red, illuminated 'Exit' sign marked a final door before them, and Myers kicked it open with his left foot. He rushed outside into the cool autumn night. Swiftly, she also flew out of the maintenance door even before its springs closed it again. But, ahead of her, Myers had stopped abruptly and she nearly crashed into him.

There was a chain-link fence in front of him, and two different sidewalk paths directly to his right and his left. He looked between the two for half a second, and finally turned and ran off to the right hand path. She watched him go. Her senses were telling her something different. Hellboy was the other way.

She called to Myers: "Wait! He is this way!"

Marlisse couldn't tell if Agent Hellboy was injured or not, as she didn't know the humanoid very well. But, there was something else that caught her immediate attention. A terrible signature in the Force. There was something else with him. And it wasn't the creature. Something intelligent. Something dark. A haunting signature in the Force that made chills travel down her spine to a much greater degree than even the cold, night air.

Myers stopped dead in his tracks and returned swiftly with a quizzical look upon his face. "Are you sure? I thought the rear was this way."

She nodded once. "I am; I can feel him." She then turned and began down the other path, her boots clapping against the paved black surface of the ground. Myers stayed right behind her. Eleven meters ahead of them the path rounded the corner of the library's exterior, and upon turning the corner, they both were aghast at the scene before them.

Hellboy stood in a battle of tug-of-war for his left forearm with a terribly hideous creature that Marlisse instantly recognized from Abraham's readings. The creature was a speckled masterpiece of different shades of blue and gray, with four powerfully built limbs and a cruelly shaped snout with long, protruding teeth. Several tentacles were attached to the back of the creature's head, and they agitatedly whipped about. However, the most concerning part of the creature was the one attached to Hellboy: a three meter long, strong tongue with small arms at the end, which unmercifully had Hellboy's left arm in a vice grip.

Myers instantly lined up a shot, and opened fire on the tongue. And severed a chunk from it! The creature squealed sharply in pain and leapt up onto a brick wall behind Hellboy and then disappeared over the side.

Marlisse charged forward and ignited her lightsaber. An acid yellow cylinder of light shot up from its hilt, and cast a golden yellow haze upon on her face in the night. As vicious as that creature seemed, it was likely to return, and she raced to the area of its disappearance. Hellboy heavily sat himself down against a large trash receptacle that stood in front of the brick wall. He gave each of his 'rescuers' a perturbed look.

Myers was not used to strange life forms – that was for certain. "That thing – that thing," Myers managed as he approached Hellboy. He was practically shaking.

She still couldn't sense that beast in the Force…. And whoever was here earlier with Hellboy, was obviously gone. The presence was completely absent now.

Hellboy wasn't at all sympathetic. "What do you think you're doing?" He demanded of both of them.

Marlisse cast a look at him, but didn't respond. She simply brushed off his attitude and decided to leave the agent's ungratefulness to Myers to deal with.

Her nose crinkled suddenly at the horrifically sour stench which wafted off from the trash receptacle and met her nostrils. How could Agent Hellboy possibly sit up against that reeking bin?

Both of them appeared to be oblivious. She frowned.

Myers, however, still couldn't answer Hellboy's rude question from the panic that he currently fought. He continued to approach the red humanoid.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hellboy demanded a second time.

"H-helping you. I -" Myers started; it finally dawned on him how unwelcome he was here.

"Nobody helps me! It's my job," the older agent angrily insisted. His red tail swatted the group in aggravation, much like a cat's would. In the meantime, Hellboy attempted to reload his weapon, yet his injured left hand kept him from doing so. He bit back a grunt. "You want to help? Here. Load this," Hellboy roughly handed over his huge gun to Myers and supplied him with a single bullet. Myers settled down next to the older agent.

"It's a tracking bullet. Crack the pin," Hellboy instructed impatiently.

Myers set about doing this, and handed the gun back to Hellboy when Marlisse' watchful gaze caught looked for movement. Surely, it would return for more.

"Oh, my God, what's on your arm?" Myers yelped at Hellboy.

The franticness in Myers' voice captured Marlisse' attention and she chanced a glance over at the two of them and saw the problem. There was still part of the tongue – or something – adhered to Hellboy's forearm. What was especially disturbing was that it was wiggling of its own accord! But, there was something even more pressing at the moment. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a two clawed feet gripping the top of the wall, with a forest of tentacles peeking over as well. They thrashed wildly now.

"Oh, crap!" HB responded, and promptly ripped the tongue-finger off his arm.

Ever level-headed, Myers demanded: "What the hell is that thing!"

Hellboy tossed it into his hands. "Lemme go ask."

"It is back!" Marlisse declared.

The creature ascended and sat perched upon the wall behind the trash receptacle, and screeched at her; it couldn't see the other two agents. Its tongue slashed expectantly against its unsettlingly long teeth. Salvia dribbled from its mouth. It cocked its head from side to side, examining Marlisse with its four eyes; two on each side of its head. A moment from now she knew it would strike. So - she took the initiative. She gathered the Force about her and leaped atop the trash receptacle, cleanly sailing over the heads of Hellboy and Myers.

"Marlisse!" Myers cried. He stood up and watched the scene, and drew his pistol again. She sensed Hellboy also roughly getting to his feet behind her.

Upon landing, she instantly brought the acid yellow blade up to block a strike from the creature's long, thick tongue from which liquid curls of fluid dripped. It was terribly charming... Fortunately, the tongue attempted to wrap itself about the glowing blade, and successfully singed its finger-like structures on the ends of it completely off! The alien finger-tentacles bounced off of her boots. _Sqqqqueeeeeaallll!_ The monster shrieked. For the most part, the end of the tongue had been cauterized but there were still vessels where amber blood sprayed outwards. She through up her right forearm to shield herself, and the long, loose sleeve of the Jedi robe acted as a curtain. The creature staggered to her right, still clinging to the wall.

"MOVE!" Hellboy commanded.

She whipped her head around to see Hellboy taking aim at the creature once more, and she ducked and rolled off of the side of the trash receptacle to get out of his way. She landed softly next to the agents.

The creature took a stand upon the wall now to the right of the trash receptacle – on the border between the library's alley and the rest of the city.

The red humanoid took aim; a green-sheen covered his upper body, issuing from a glow within the revolving chamber. It was the tracking bullet. _BANG!_ The creature staggered severely from the shot, and half-jumped, half-fell off the side of the wall… and into the city.

"Why, you little..." Hellboy muttered. He started after the creature, gaining momentum before taking a mighty leap - evidently only an ability that his species allowed him to perform - and completely clearing the brick wall. His boots met the ground on the other side with a soft thud.

"Wait!" Myers called after their departed companion. "Oh, _man_..." He muttered, and he and Marlisse started out after the big, red guy. Myers managed to give an impressive leap and grabbed the edge of the wall with a grunt, before hauling himself up onto the top. Yet, he stopped himself from dropping over the over side, and instead looked back to see whether or not Marlisse needed assistance.

It was polite of him... but not necessary.

Once more, she drew the Force about herself and used it to fuel another jump. She flew over the wall with more ease than Agent Hellboy had, and landed upon her feet in a squat, with barely a sound. The wind drag she created caught up with her milliseconds later, and a company of dried, brown leaves about her feet suddenly took a short flight of erratic twists and turns before returning to the ground. They smelled cold and damp.

She didn't bother to turn as Myers landed beside her because there were two larger concerns weighing on her than Myers' jump down from the wall.

"Wait!" Myers called again to the back of their sprinting companion.

Ahead of them all, the creature rushed fearlessly towards oddly and garishly dressed, unarmed humans and climbed on the top of a large, cargo-bearing vehicle. Screeches from the suffering metal ceiling of the vehicle rang out in the autumn night due to the terrible weight of the beast. Strangely, the entity now seemed fully recovered from the gunshot wounds.

Three ordinary looking men, who apparently were not part of the bizarre festival going on that night, stood horrified at the coming and going of the creature. Their open mouths revealed their undiminished shock by the humanoid who now rushed towards them. Agent Hellboy pursued the entity closely and launched himself on top of the vehicle after it; inadvertently smashing part of it as well. Although she couldn't see it from this vantage point, she could easily hear the sharp tinkling of breaking glass.

This really was becoming a mess. If the BPRD wanted dangers, such as this creature, to remain a secret to the general public... this certainly was not the way to do it. Besides the lines of humans who populated the sidewalks, they were also near a very busy street. It would not be long before humans on the road would be made aware of the beast as well.

Marlisse unclipped her lightsaber again and followed the trail of wreckage. Myers was rushing to gain ground on their comrade and was right by her side. His pistol was in hand and he reported into his headset: "We're heading towards civilians."

They passed the trio of men behind the vehicle and unlike the two former passers-by, they paid Marlisse and Myers little attention. They simply stared at them without really looking; fear still etched in their faces. Myers addressed them in hopes of dissuading their terror. "Crazy costumes, huh? Trick or treat!"

_Costumes?_ What sort of celebration was this? Marlisse hardly had time to wonder.

Screams erupted from the passing crowds on the other side of the vehicle when they suddenly gained a clear view of the beast. Wisely, those who spotted the beast, ran. The creature paused momentarily as it eyed certain humans who drew too near, but when it caught sight of Hellboy approaching, it swiftly took off - directly into the street! Some of the oncoming vehicles swerved, but the majority sounded their horns and kept driving at tens of kilometers per hour past the creature which darted and leaped across four lanes of heavy traffic. A blue-gray silhouette had formed from the multiple sets of vehicular lights which passed over the creature.

Although she half-expected it, Marlisse took a sharp intake of breath when Hellboy - not far ahead of her by now - followed the beast into the street. She did not care for this turn of events at all. There were far too many people at risk here. Red was at least being careful; he timed his crossing well despite the distractions at hand. He waited, then charged, then leaned back, then waited and charged forward again. It may not have been safe, but it was working for him.

He was honked at more than once by the passing cars, and he was forced to observe the creature releasing a victorious squeal when it had successfully reached the other side of the street. It turned to look back at its pursuers before disappearing among the crowds on the opposing sidewalk. Hellboy was nearly halfway across when Marlisse reached the edge of the sidewalk. She leaned over the edge of the sidewalk, but hesitated as she contemplated the timing involved in keeping herself from being squashed like a piranha beetle. Yet, before she took a step out into traffic, Myers ran past her and was out into the street. He almost crossed the first lane, but as a pair of lights was laid upon him by a rapidly approaching car, he froze in place and stared at the vehicle.

"John!" She called, but to no avail. He wasn't listening or else couldn't move from the apprehension that seized him. She attempted to step forward and grab a hold of him, yet she was suddenly seized herself around her middle by strong arms.

"Hey! Stop!" She yelled and clawed at the large, calloused hands that gripped her ribs. She continued to watch in horror of the unfolding events. Although Myers managed to at least dodge the front end, but his left shoulder and arm were clipped by the side of the vehicle. The momentum of the strike sent Myers into a spin down to his knees... and right into the path of another vehicle.

"John!" She screamed.

"Hey, you gotta death wish, or somethin'?" A gruff, masculine voice questioned. Her unseen "rescuer" yanked her off of the road and back onto the sidewalk.

She struggled fiercely against the stranger's grip. "Let me go!" She drew in another breath to shriek again for Myers to move, but then...

Hellboy stepped in front of Myers. Right in front of the rapidly approaching transport. The humanoid stood straight and tall, undaunted; his face showed no fear. His mouth set in a grim line, as his features became illuminated by bright rays of light issuing forth from the front of the vehicle. He held up his mighty stone hand with his palm facing the transport, signaling it to stop.

She didn't try to face the person who held her tight. Instead - and against her better judgment - she freed herself by the quickest method she knew: she lifted her left foot half of a meter off the ground, and then came down hard upon the man's left instep. His foot conformed slightly to the sole of her boot - just enough to flex the metatarsals and leave a considerable bruise on the man's foot. But, not enough to break anything. She didn't have the heart to do that - even if Myers was in imminent danger.

The unfortunate, good samaritan howled in pain, and gruffly shoved her to the ground in response. Her hands took the brunt of the fall; her palms hit the pavement with a sharp smack. She ignored the stinging pain that radiated in her hands and up her forearms, and disregarded the profanity being spat her way from her former rescuer. Marlisse forced herself to her feet.

Still, the vehicle didn't even slow down.

Marlisse had only time to look on in horror. She wouldn't make it in time.

Hellboy abruptly made a fist, his face twisted into a scowl. He yelled, "RED MEANS STOP!"

The humanoid lunged forward and brought his stone fist down on the hood of the vehicle with profound vehemence, as a warrior would a war hammer; yet, he did so with an unimaginable, concussive force.

The front end of the vehicle bent downward, unforgivably contorting the metal. At the same time, the back end lifted off of the ground with such velocity that the rest of the vehicle followed suit until the entire transport was airborne, upside down. The vehicle performed an entire somersault. It scarcely flew a meter above the agents' heads, and finally touched down on the ground again a safe distance behind Myers.

Both oncoming lanes of traffic came to a complete stop. Tires squealed viciously as multiple vehicles came to a halt, their operators swerving in panic. The pair of people on the road were greeted with a symphony of blaring horns. But, they went unnoticed.

Marlisse released an astonished breath, and was instantly at Myers' side. He still kneeled upon the road, holding his left arm at an odd angle. He sat there, involuntarily trembling from the shock. Blood covered his left hand and forearm. Marlisse gently set her hands on his shoulders to alert him to her presence. It wouldn't do to frighten him further.

Myers jerked slightly at her touch.

Hellboy glanced at Marlisse as she approached, but turned his attention back to the younger agent. "You all right?" His deep-set yellow eyes regarded him with concern.

"Yeah," Myers replied, quietly; his face tight with pain. He fought to still his tremors.

Hellboy nodded curtly at them. "Stay here," he said. He turned on his heel and left his companions; once again, in pursuit of the creature. His tan coat swirled behind him like a cape, in the breezy autumn night.

After Hellboy departed, John relayed recent events to the BPRD over his earpiece. Professor Broom and the other agents would be joining them soon. Between now and then, he and Marlisse needed to make themselves disappear into the crowd. His left arm and shoulder ached badly. But, he didn't think anything was broken. Marlisse had confirmed his guess, after examining his arm.

She left his side after admonishing him to stay put, and checked in on the occupants of the red SUV that HB had flipped. Myers was impressed with her. He was impressed beforehand, honestly. The loose, brown robes, the knee-high boots, the _very_ real lightsaber... It's like she had walked straight off of a movie set. But, she wasn't an actor. And that wasn't a costume. And that lightsaber handle wasn't a prop.

Plus: her ability to sense others, fly over walls, face off with monsters... she was the real thing. Even now, she didn't stop. He wondered if all Jedi were this geared towards the service of others.

He watched her from the sidewalk he had stepped off of, only minutes ago. She spoke gently and calmly with the family inside the vehicle. They received her presence with gratitude. They even complimented her on her costume. She smiled, and let the comment slide.

No one was harmed. Sadly, their vehicle was a wreck; but, that couldn't be helped. And as for the giant, red man who abruptly stopped their car... what giant, red man? Surely, they had hit a large object painted red. Perhaps, it was an animal they struck. Yet, if it was, why did it was shaped like a man? And how could any animal flip their car over? In the end, she couldn't help them reach any solid conclusions. Only muddle their suspicions.

Following their conversation, she gave a curt nod of valediction, and turned to face Myers. She approached him, her black eyes studied him carefully. She frowned in concern; her eyes left his face and rested on his left arm.

"Are you still in pain?" She asked. Marlisse reached out and took his forearm into her soft hands. Her long, nimble fingers gently pressed down on his ulna and radius, attentively following their lengths from his wrist to his elbow.

He fought back a wince, and his whole body tensed. "It's not that bad," he fibbed. Really, it would likely improve on its own. "Thanks for looking in on them." He nodded in the SUV's direction.

Her onyx eyes glanced up at his face sharply. The frown on her face deepened, and then she sighed. She ignored his latter statement, and dropped her gaze to his arm again. "I said earlier that no bones seem to be broken. Yet, I am not certain you have walked away unscathed. There may be a fracture here... in one of these two," she explained, and drew an imaginary line down his forearm with her right index finger. "I need to examine you further," she released his arm. "Come. Come with me." She waved for him to follow her.

They made their way all the way back to the wall they scaled earlier, near the library grounds. Myers glanced around at the people surrounding them. He was curious to see if there were any still nearby who had witnessed the beast. To his relief, he did not spot familiar faces. In fact, even the three guys who were unloading the delivery truck were also gone when he and Marisse passed by. Instead, there were groups of new faces; happily buzzing crowds filled the air with clouds of indiscernible words.

He was glad no one had stuck around. No one to ask any questions. Myers hoped their terror from seeing the creature would be enough to warp their memories of the encounter. And their glimpses of Hellboy. Fear would make them highly unreliable witnesses; which certainly would help the huge cover-up that the BPRD needed after this one. It's not like the big guy had stayed out of sight, after all...

Myers sighed. And to think - this was just his first night on the job.

When they reached the wall, Marlisse turned around and scanned the groups of people passing by, several yards away. Watching them to ascertain whether or not they were looking in her direction. Myers reflexively followed her gaze, and only turned his attention back to her when her hands took hold of his left arm again. She charily rotated his forearm until the crook of his elbow faced upwards; apparently, she expected it to hurt more than it did.

"Look, I'm sorry, Marlisse... but, why did we have to come back here?" Really they were supposed to disappear into the crowd; not disappear entirely. He didn't want the BPRD agents to miss them when they came by... After they dropped out of sight, Broom's exact words were, "We'll find you."

She locked eyes with him, and released his arm. "Agent Myers, I am a healer," she began; and reached down to open one of the several, small compartments attached to her dark brown utility belt. "Most of my methods of healing are not conventional to humans. And after what everyone out there has witnessed tonight," she nodded in the direction of the sidewalk, "they do not need to see anything else so... unique. So, please, roll up your sleeve."

Myers raised his brows at her particular choice of wording. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. But, soon his amusement was lost, and he swallowed as he watched her open a cylindrical, clear bottle she retrieved from her belt with a thin, black cap which stopped the top of the bottle's neck. Its contents appeared to be only water.

He eased his left shoulder out of his jacket, with some caution when his socket suddenly complained about this specific movement in the form of an acidic burn, shooting up his biceps tendon. His real trouble, however, was when he navigated his forearm through the sleeve. He clenched his teeth. Thankfully, his sweatshirt was a different story, and he was halfway finished rolling it up when his fingers met moisture coming through his sleeve. Myers rolled up even more, and he noted a decent sized gash on the underside of his forearm. And where there wasn't blood, there were large rosy splotches surrounding it - a field of bruises.

His attention immediately leapt back to Marlisse' bottle, when she removed the cap with a muffled _POP. _

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of it. He stood transfixed as Marlisse held her right hand over the open neck of the bottle and... impossibly, the water began to rise out of the glass container. In one single stream, it reached out into the air as if it were a sentient tendril, and then began to pool on the palm of her hand, completely ignorant of the laws of gravity, until the bottle was empty.

His jaw went slack.

The water then spread out, and completely covered the surface of her entire hand, until she was wearing a glove of liquid that shimmered from the street lights.

Myers composed himself, and watched as her water-encased hand made contact with his arm. It was cool, at first; just as unheated water should be. Then it changed, completely.

Marlisse' eyes closed in concentration.

The water steadily grew warmer and warmer - or perhaps it was her hand? It felt like a heating pad against his arm, and the shimmering only intensified until Myers decided that it wasn't the street lights being reflected off the liquid, but instead it was producing its own luminosity - a brilliant, electric blue. The feel of it at once emitted a soothing warmth, and also numbed the pain from his arm.

"What are you doing?" Myers demanded; this was just a bit too much all in one night.

"I am treating the wound, and searching for fractures," Marlisse replied curtly, as her eyes popped open to glance at him sharply. "Please, be quiet."

Soon the sensation slipped all the way up to his shoulder - even without her hand moving up there - and eased the pent-up tension within the joint. Maybe this was a little like what Heaven felt like. Myers didn't know, but could only imagine... and was rather disappointed when it ended a brief couple of minutes later.

The incandescent blue glow slowly evanesced to a faint luminosity until the water once more, appeared to be simply water; it again reflected only the harsh yellow light from the street lamps. Marlisse removed her hand from his arm, while the water still held fast to the surface of her hand. His arm was left completely dry, he noted with curiosity.

But, the experience by no means left him without results; that was for certain. His arm didn't hurt or ache to any degree. In fact, the skin and muscles involved remained warm from the treatment, but his shoulder felt brand new. Perhaps, they were better than they did prior to the accident. And most notably, the gash in his forearm was perfected mended. A thin line of new, pink skin was the only indicator that he had ever been injured.

Myers turned his arm over and back, rather astonished at what had just transpired. He looked back up at Marlisse, who by now had replaced the water and bottle back into her utility belt, and she busied herself by closing the small compartment back up. Her brows furrowed while she momentarily struggled with the latch.

"How did you do that?" Myers marveled, and shook his head in disbelief.

"As I said before - I am a healer," she responded, simply; sparing a glance up at him, with one brow lifted. She finished with latch and straightened up, and her gaze fell upon his treated arm, silently inspecting her own work. "How does it feel?" She finally met his eyes, and her countenance softened.

"It's fine... absolutely fine." He replied; the corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a small smile. He turned his arm upside down again, showing off the mended skin beneath.

She nodded, and said nothing further on the subject. Her expression became serious, contemplative, and her dark eyes flicked back to the city once more. Perhaps, it was a neutral look for her.

He watched her watch the passing people. The harsh street lights fell upon her dark features and created a yellow-orange cast to her copper skin. Under the artificial light, brown shadows - rather than black - ruled this area and sepia outlined her delicate jaw and added some dimension to her otherwise obscure cheekbones. Yet, her hair remained as black as cast iron in the lighting; it hung unbound and ended at her shoulders abruptly in a wavy cascade of reflective ebony.

And the most unique quality about her, though was the skin just above both of her brows, which was marked by symmetrically placed circular spots (tattoos he decided, not make-up as he originally guessed); they consisted of two dots over each of her brows.

Myers felt a mild sense of guilt at the realization that this was the first time he had taken any time to study what she looked like. He was rather caught up in the maelstrom of activity he found himself plunged in after his arrival that day. This new job, his new co-workers... just too much to focus on at once. And Marlisse... He supposed he hadn't really looked past her apparel, and her weapon - the iconic image of the Jedi. Now, he actually saw _her_; and not the robes and lightsaber alone.

He forced himself to cease starring and set about rolling his sleeve back down, along with slipping his coat back on - the reality of the frigid, autumn night air having set in, again.

"We should go back," her accented voice gently broke the silence. He looked at her again, though she did not turn back to him.

"They will wonder where we are," she continued; her gaze turned downwards to the ground in front of her. Dried, dead leaves wiggled before her feet, and threatened to cartwheel away in the wind.

He nodded stiffly, and sniffed from the cold dampness that crept through the air. If Marlisse noticed it at all, she did not reveal it. Her sudden introspection made him wonder, but then, Myers couldn't honestly think he knew her well enough to know if this was normal. But, for some reason he couldn't help but believe it wasn't.

But, he didn't want to pry, and instead chose to observe. Myers followed her when she started out for their rendezvous point: the lit-up, fully occupied carousel. A large group of adults and children were gathered about it, waiting in line for their children to have a chance to ride next. Not far from where he was nearly run down by the SUV.

He let her lead them down the sidewalk, but kept close to her back; he absent-mindedly used her body as a shield against the passing crowds so he could continue buttoning up without the need to look up. But, when he looked up again, Marlisse still walked in the direction of the carousel, and yet... He admitted he would be fooling himself if there wasn't something odd going on, after all. Her paces had grown uneven, uncalculated. There wasn't a flow to her stride anymore, as if all the strength had been drained out of her, and she hadn't taken more than five additional steps when Myers reached out to grab her shoulder.

But, he was too late to stop her fall.

"Marlisse!"

Passing lines of people slowed to stare as Marlisse collapsed to her knees on the sidewalk, and her hands slammed sharply down in front of her to catch herself. But, she failed to pick herself back up. Marlisse sat with her legs folded under her, and her head bowed over. Her shoulders rose and fell with each breath she took; they came shuddering and deep. Dozens of faces looked on and scrutinized both of their actions when he rushed to Marlisse and knelt down at her left side, and took hold of her arm.

* * *

_It seemed the entire world was on fire._

_Dense clouds of black smoke billowed off burning structures and trees; in any direction she turned, there was not a clear section of sky. And where there was not black, there was gray. Ash descended to the ground like snow flakes and had formed an inch thick blanket that only continued to thicken. The scent of burning wood and leaves filled her nostrils. And with a _whoosh! _another fire broke out less than a kilometer away... and fear momentarily gripped Marlisse. She quickly suppressed it with a Jedi calming technique._

_"C'mon! C'mon - move! Get inside the ships!" She screamed; her voice straining above the chaos. Her acid yellow lightsaber blazed in the noxious air. She waved it side to side to draw the attention of as many as she could. A beacon in the hazy fumes._

_"MOVE IT!" A New Republic officer barked at the people who hastily passed in between himself and Marlisse. At least a dozen other officers, human and alien alike, stood in a line abreast to Marlisse, diverting the fleeing Yuroagurians to safety._

_There was an entire fleet of New Republic emergency transport ships primed and ready to depart. Several already had, and several more were starting out, filled to the brim with Yuroagurians. Perhaps a billion men, women, and children had escaped so far... but, that was barely a quarter of the population. _

_When the invasion has spilled into the Yuroa System, the majority of the Yuroagurians had not believed the New Republic's reports. They clung to the hope that these foreigners were lying, and once again attempted to ignore the troubles of the rest of the galaxy. Yuroaguria had stayed neutral during the invasion... until now. _

_They deluded themselves into thinking the invasion would never reach this far... Surely, the Yuroa System was immune to such atrocities. The majority of the population had scoffed, ridiculed, cursed and even disowned Marlisse Gohlay when she came with the foreigners to take the Yuroagurian people to "safety". _How could any other system be any safer than their own?_ they reasoned. _

_In short, at least half of the population had refused to leave their homes, even to the last possible moment. Yet, some of them came to their senses when they witnessed the smoke, fire, lava, and destruction that the Yuuzhan Vong were raining down upon their beloved planet. And so here they came, hundreds at a time, running for the safety of the transport ships._

_And leaving behind everything they had ever known. Their homes, farms, beaches, gardens, fields, mountains, lakes, all their possessions, their ancestors' remains... everything. Perhaps even their identity as Yuroagurians. _

_They were not a people to depart from their homeland. And those who ever did, were never considered members of the tribes afterwards. They were forever wanderers. Because on some level they were tainted by the alien customs of foreigners. They were never again truly Yuroagurian. _

_And so now no surviving member of their race could boast they were a true Yuroagurian. This wasn't just the death of their planet, it was the death of their identity as well; in the sense that they had always known it. _

_They were doomed to a life of wandering from place to place...just all the other races swallowed up in the wake of the invasion. No longer any clear lines, but only smeared boundaries. _

_As a Jedi, she had come to accept this. There was no other mindset one could have. A Jedi lays aside all notion of race or identity. A Jedi respects all life in any form, and it respects no race above another._

_But, Yuroagurians were not Jedi. Accepting the loss of their homeland would not be an easy path for them, and she sensed her people's future would be made exceedingly difficult by the stiffness of their own necks._

_Marlisse was forced to her senses when another fire broke out to the south of them. Another _whoosh!_ and suddenly the licking, silken tendrils of orange flames shot upright, engulfing the canopy of the hundred meter tall trees._

_The Republic reports stated they would have enough time to get everyone off planet; that the Yuuzhan Vong fire breathers weren't anywhere near them. But, honestly, no one had a clear idea of what was going on... _

_...because there were at least three beasts closing in on their position. They were cornered._

_Her eyes watered and her throat burned from the toxic chemicals that the wind continued to sweep her way. Screams and shouts never ceased to fill the air; it was a thunderous waterfall of cacophony. "C'mon! C'mon! Mov-" She screamed, before coughing; thick mucous clung to back of her throat and spit flew out of her mouth and onto her hand, speckled with blood._

_Marlisse hastily wiped it off on the front of her tunic. The particles in the pseudo-volcanic ash were cutting up her lungs._

_It wasn't until then she realized just how much her chest hurt..._

_She looked to her companions. And what she saw, in part, confirmed her fears. Ash had caked in the hair and on the uniforms of the beings to her right and left. She suspected she looked much the same. Her temples itched where beads of sweat had begun to develop and as the flakes of ash descended, they clung fast to her skin and itched and burned. She had long since rubbed her face raw from wiping off the tormenting particles._

_Marlisse had stood her ground here, fifty yards in front of the ships for over three hours now; breathing in the ash... She knew with all modesty aside that Yuroagurians were blessed with hardy anatomies - at least, hardier than human bodies - and she knew that if she was experiencing some form of respiratory damage, her human counterparts most certainly were, or would very soon. They had only joined her an hour before. _

_"Get into the ships!" She yelled the New Republic officers to her right. The male human closest to her, gave her an incredulous look in reply at her sudden insistence. _

_"What? Are you insane? There're more people coming." He misinterpreted her meaning; perhaps distracted by the surrounding chaos. "We're not leaving until we've got everyone aboard!"_

_"Agreed!" She fought to be heard, and gave an exaggerated nod of her approval. "But, all of you aren't staying out here. I will see to this!"_

_A chestnut-furred bothan officer, to the right of the human, opened his mouth to protest; being one of the few other soldiers to actually hear her above the confusion. The rest simply turned their heads in her direction, trying to decipher what it was she was saying._

_"The ash - it'll kill you! You've got to get to the transport and get out of here!" And for added clarity of her earlier statement: "These are MY people - I will NOT abandon them. I will be the last to board... if there is time."_

_The human shook his head, in reply. "We've got orders, m'am - We're not leaving until it's done!"_

_"Do your superiors know we've got less than a half hour before those beasts are upon us?" She demanded; her patience was starting to wane... perhaps it was the leaden feeling in her chest that spiked her anger. She wouldn't survive another two hours out there, and she certainly didn't want these soldiers to die trying to save what could not be saved. Marlisse would stay here, as long as her legs and lungs would hold out. As long as she could stay conscious. _

_"What are you talking about?" He frowned._

_"Those fires are not spreading from the wind. The trees; _our trees_," she corrected herself. This was her home after all. "Our trees do not catch fire. They are all full of water. All of them. They cannot _catch_ fire, unless they are _set_ on fire. There are fire breathers out there!" She pointed in the direction of the newest, tall, feasting flames dancing just above the tree line._

_At first, he just stared at her, uncomprehending. But, soon fear slowly crept into him, she could sense before she could see it. It leached into the features of his youthful face, making him seem even younger than he really was. He made the connection, finally. If the trees were full of water, than even the wind could not start a full-fledged forest fire like what was occurring where she pointed. Only an accelerant could engender these fires that were shooting up, closer and closer to the evacuation point._

_His words were covered over by the noise of the scene, but she could see them nonetheless. His lips forming: "Oh, my God."_

_Unfortunately, for Marlisse, the man just stood there dumbly, utterly overcome with the implications laid before him. His superiors had assured them all that there was plenty of time. That the Yuroagurians would get out, and the soldiers, too, besides._

_Or, at least, she well imagined that's what was going through his mind, based on his reaction._

_Fortunately, the bothan had absorbed the information. His furry face was stricken with panic, his eyes wide, but he still held it together. He pulled a comlink from off his belt, and began shouting orders. _

_She only wished she had access to his superiors' channel. She'd be ripping them open with very choice words that were rolling around in her mind. She tried not to remind herself that the present devastation to her world was the direct result of Borsk Fey'lya's choice words of his own. Words that insulted the Yuuzhan Vong so much so - even though they had previously promised to only 'occupy' her planet (how generous) - that the invaders now promised to utterly annihilate Yuroaguria for simply association with the New Republic. And here they were; reaping the rewards of that wretched bothan's "choice words". _

_She breathed out slowly before her blood boiled over._

_Marlisse watched this officer a few moments more to ensure that something was truly being done. Maybe they could mobilize smaller vehicles and gather more people at a time. Yuroagurians could run quite fast, but the New Republic was wasting time just allowing the people to come to them on foot._

_Five landspeeders ought to be enough. Just five. The majority of the villages in this area had already been evacuated. The people pouring in right now were from the outlying ones - miles away. And even though they were indeed running for their lives, they still were beginning to tire. Some might not make it at all at this rate._

_The bothan's angry tone was beginning to dissipate. His volume was simply utilitarian, but not out of agitation. Perhaps, he was getting somewhere with the people on the other end. Maybe they had a chance of getting the remaining people out of here..._

_... But, there would be no such opportunity for them, as it turned out._

_Directly ahead of their line, there was a sudden wave of people bursting forth from the edge of the forest; and a new pattern of screams emerged. Marlisse desparately hoped they were the last group, because time was not their ally this day.__ There were likely five hundred coming towards them right then. But, she knew there was a reason behind such an influx of people, knew it in her gut, just as surely as she felt the Force turn as cold as ice. It chilled her to the bone. She dreaded what else would emerge from the jungle. And she and the soldiers would not be left waiting long._

_A great - no, _enormous_ - entity emerged from below the hundred meter trees, into the clearing of the vast field. The beast caused dozens of young, thirty-meter ones at the edge of the treeline to bend and break from the sheer force it possessed just by pressing against them. Struggling to fit its bizarre, giant body through the tightly-packed jungle vegetation._

_Marlisse took a sharp intake of breath...She reached a trembling hand up to cover her mouth in horror. S__he knew the beasts had been close, but she never anticipated...  
_

_The sheer size of the beast, coupled with its foreign shape and color - so clearly unnatural among Yuroaguria's jungle - was immensely disturbing. It stood ten meters tall and was supported by six, spindle-shaped, multi-jointed legs. And atop the legs rode a large, wine-hued, bulbous head with two spouts. _

_They all knew what was coming next; and Marlisse stood watching helplessly. The only hope these people had was to simply outrun the beast. They didn't have the weaponry set up and ready to kill it. And the Yuroagurians still had two hundred meters of open land to cover before they reached her and the New Republic soldiers. _

_But, there had to be something she could do... a distraction, maybe? She almost took off in their direction when she was haulted by her comrades' actions._

_Obviously, none of the New Republic officers failed to see the beast approach, and instantly began screaming commands into their comlinks - and she couldn't believe it - they were instructing the remaining transport ships to take off!_

_"WAIT!" Marlisse charged towards the same human; who was among those speaking to the pilots. "We have to get this last group on board - we can't leave them here!" _

_The human shook his head in disbelief, his entire body rigid with terror. "They're already dead. They won't make it! We don't have the firepower, that thing'll cook 'em before they even cross the field - we've got to go NOW!" The soldier even had the audacity to take a firm hold of her shoulder, as if to forcibly escort her to the ships. He successfully turned her around to face the evac ships, when she violently twisted out of his grip. Wrenching his wrist._

_"YOU WILL TELL THE PILOTS TO WAIT!" She roared in his face. Marlisse spun back around to face the field again and to - _

She was too late.

He was right.

_The great beast on jointed stilt-like legs seemed to falter in its steps... just a moment, before - fluid fire spewed like a waterfall down upon the fleeing Yuroagurians. Men, women, and children alike. There was no discrimination, no judgment; only unmindful, unrepentant, and unfeeling killing of her people. The lava-fire swept over the majority of them in a matter of moments. It burned and even melted those who were close enough to the cascading river of liquid flames._

_There was nothing to prevent it; the beast had gained too much ground on its victims before she could even intervene. _

_Suddenly, she felt quite numb._

_She wasn't consciously aware of falling to her knees, nor of the soldiers screaming either into their comlinks or else, at each other now. Nor, was she even aware that some of them were shouting at her. Perhaps, yelling at her to escape? To get up? She didn't know._

_Marlisse didn't quite know what she was aware of, besides the orange-red wild-fires that sprang to life exactly where the bodies of the fallen villagers now lay; burned and lifeless bodies, that were now swiftly and utterly consumed in the spreading inferno before them. Her breath caught in her throat... her chest _burned_ now, so much so that she wasn't sure she could even take another breath, even if she were so inclined. _

Marlisse?

_She blinked. Who had called her? _

_It certainly hadn't been one of the soldiers. They had all grown strangely silent._

_Just like the Yuroagurians._

* * *

Her eyes stayed trained upon the sidewalk, as if she wasn't aware of his presence at all. She continued to pant for oxygen; her chest heaved with effort to supply such a sudden demand. But, there wasn't a cause for such a demand. Did healing his wounds really take that much out of her?

He suddenly felt a sick sense of familiarity as he now mirrored Marlisse' position not twenty minutes prior; with her where Myers had sat, crumpled under the weight of pain and shock... If anything, her rapid breathing and poor constitution made her look every bit the victim of a car accident.

"Marlisse?" He swallowed down his concern, and he was glad it carried through into his voice. The training from his previous occupation was finally taking over. Talking down trigger-happy, agitated gunmen had been by no means a simple or stress-free task; it took patience, self-confidence, humility and most of all, an unwaveringly composed voice. "Are you alright?"

* * *

**Please leave a review! I'd love feedback :) **

**Sidenote/Trivia: In an early draft of the Hellboy script, they mention that Myers' previous occupation was hostage negotiation, so I wanted to make sure people didn't assume this was an original idea of mine - because it wasn't. However, I do wish they had kept this fact in the shooting script since we as the audience would have gotten a deeper feel for Myers' character overall... but, oh well!**


End file.
